Live Another Day
by TwiggyBlack
Summary: Before the owl came, Emmy's life at the orphanage was normal. Nothing out of the ordinary ever happened there. Until that owl came, and Emmy's normal life went up in smoke, leaving her with a very UNusual life.
1. Chapter 1

_**Live Another Day**_

**Author's Note:** **And so it begins! This is the first fanfiction I've ever written, and I started it back in December, I think. It was originally posted at GinnyPotter, which is a superb Harry Potter fanfiction community with a lot of great stories. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Seamus would be the protagonist and we would all move to Ireland and worship him.**

**The series isn't that twisted, so you know I didn't write it. **

**I do, however, own a Russian Dictionary. I can say "wolf" in Russian! (Along with a couple other things.)**

**Chapter One: The Big Feathery Visitor**

The orphanage was usually quiet at this hour in the morning. If this had been a normal day, Emmy would have been curled up in her blue bedspread, her blonde hair a mess around her. Emmy's positioning this morning was completely normal, but what was going on around her clearly wasn't.

For one, the girls that Emmy shared a room with (Rosy and Violet) were up. Violet was normally up first, and she normally awoke Emmy at eight. But today was certainly not a normal day, as it was seven and Violet was already shaking Emmy awake. Violet hadn't even had time to run a brush through her curly black hair when she realized something wasn't right.

Maybe it was the fact that her six-year-old roomate, Rosy, was awake at this dratted hour. Maybe it was the fact that Emmy hadn't been snoring. Could it, perhaps, be the fact that her beaded necklace lie on the floor in pieces? But most likely of her accusations, it was the fact that there was a large bird with wide eye just sitting on her windowsill.

Emmy, on the other hand, thought that today would be perfectly normal. A regular day in the life of Emmy.

She turned her head on the pillow and her dreamy thoughts swam around in her head. Her dreams often sent her flying about, whether it be night or day. More than once she had fallen off of her bed and onto the floor. At those times, she saved Violet the trouble of going through the process of waking her up.

"Em," called a distant voice. "Emmy, you've got a visitor. A big feathery visitor."

Emmy rolled over in her sleep.

"Wake UP!" Violet bellowed. Her black curls danced about while she shook Emmy in frustration.

Emmy rolled again.

"But Em," Violet continued. "There is a big, huge bird on the windowsill. It's looking at you. It's got something tied to its leg as well."

"EM!" Rosy shrieked, "BIG, FLUFFY BIRDIE OUTSIDE ON THE WINDOW. WAKE UP YOU LAZY BEAST!"

Being an impatient six-year-old, Rosy decided on the spot to stop yelling and take action. She was bored and she wanted to know why the bird was there.

Rosy jumped on top of Emmy and shook her. It didn't work, so Rosy tried again. "EMMY!" she screamed. "BIG BIRDY ON THE WINDOW. WAKEY, WAKEY!

She then took hold of Emmy's face and slapped it.

"Uhhhh," Emmy groaned. "Geroff me!"

"SEE THE BIRDY!" Rosy shouted at her.

"No, no," Violet and Emmy said, "you'll wake—"

But it was too late. Callandra Bush stood outside the door.

"Weeeeel," she said sweetly, prolonging the vowel, "I do not think you are allowed to have pets, orphans. But then we'd have given up this little mangy thing looong ago." She was pointing to Rosy, who scowled. "I think," she continued, "that my mother should know about this."

It was bad enough that the orphanage director's daughter knew about the rule breaking (No pets or animals were allowed at the orphanage, and it had been several times that Emmy had brought furry friends into the room.), but Callandra had to make it worse. In the truth, Callandra Bush made everything worse. Her perfect golden ringlets looked worse on her, well fed and pompous. Callandra was the perfect sneak; she blended in and she was controlling. And rich. She paid some of the other orphans to snitch on rule-breakers.

"MUMMY!" Callandra bellowed. "I HAVE FOUND YOU SOME RULE BREAKERS!"

For the obese lady she was, Mrs. Bush traveled up the stairs in record time.

"Now, now, what do we have here?" Mrs. Bush said in a sickly sweet voice that was uncannily like Callandra's.

The three orphans gulped. Then the bird, which was an owl, Emmy guessed, flew to Mrs. Bush.

"Get this bloody bird off me!" she screeched.

Emmy went to help, but Mrs. Bush shooed her off.

Callandra had no intention of getting anywhere near the bird.

"Oh, god, you bloody bird," Emmy muttered, "Just get off."

And the bird did.

Emmy was amazed. The owl had listened? No, she answered herself. It had just gotten tired.

Mrs. Bush let out a long stream of blasphemous words before screaming at Emmy. Emmy had expected this; Mrs. Bush always went for her.

"YOU BROUGHT THAT BIRD IN HERE! I WILL HAVE NONE OF THAT! YOU'RE LUCKY I GAVE YOU A HOME IN THIS ORPHANAGE, YOU FILTHY LITTLE BRAT! YOU WILL BE SCRUBBING THIS PLACE SPOTLESS! DO YOU HEAR? S-P-O-T-L-E-S!" Emmy sniggered uncontrollably at Mrs. Bush's spelling mistake.

"AND THEN YOU'LL WORK IN THE KITCHEN WITH COOKIE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE! BUT THAT'S NOT ENOUGH! AFTER THAT, YOU'LL NEVER GET TO LEAVE AND YOU GET THE HONOR OF BEING MY SERVANT. FOREVER! AND SERVANTS SHOULDN'T GET THEIR OWN ROOMS! YOU'LL BE SLEEPING UNDER THE STAIRWELL! NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!"

Emmy couldn't believe how unfair Mrs. Bush was being. Mrs. Bush simply hated Emmy. She didn't have a clue why. Mrs. Bush often overreacted when it came to punishing Emmy. But it seemed that she'd really blow her top this time. Emmy was in trouble.

Emmy obeyed quickly, shoving her blanket and clothes into her bag. She glanced at Violet and Rosy, who looked away. Crossing over the carpeted floor, she glared ferociously at Callandra. Even though Emmy had just been sentenced to near-death, Callandra recoiled at the intensity.

Emmy stalked out, stopping to kick Mrs. Bush in the shins several times before she passed through the doorframe.

**Like it? It turns into more of a mystery by the end of the first couple of chapters, and now it isn't that exciting, I know. Think of this as a...sample! It gets better. **

**Love from,**

**Twiggy**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Live Another Day_**

**Author's Note: So this is chapter two, and things get stranger. Emmy's last name isn't mentioned for specific reasons. That adds to the mystery. Hints began in the first chapter, but this one should really tell you who she is. If not, you'll find out soon enough. **

**Chapter Two: Oddities**

Emmy thundered down the stairs in a huff. How could she? Sentenced to a lifetime of labor! Well, she was just going to have to run away.

But to where?

Emmy was an orphan, and if she had family, she would be with them now. So now she was stuck in the little storage space under the stairwell. With the spiders and the dust bunnies. Happy, happy, day. She opened the tiny door and stepped inside. For once, she was grateful for her height. Emmy was a short, pale blonde girl. She had a pale, narrow face and a strange eye color. They were silver, with flecks of blue. Her eyes almost looked like mercury mixed with sky. Emmy had big eyes, that always appeared surprised.

Emmy hated her appearance. She wasn't normal looking, with her amazing blonde hair and strange, wide eyes. She wanted to be normal. But being normal would pose a problem.

Looking down on the floor, she wondered where she would sleep. It was cramped quarters, close in and stuffy. The ceiling was chipping, probably from years and years of orphans running down the stairs. Or Mrs. Bush. That fat lady could chip any ceiling. Emmy wouldn't dare ask Mrs. Bush to give her a cot, and it was unlikely one would fit. So she laid her blanket down on the hardwood floor. She could barely see the wood under the dust. It wouldn't be comfortable, but it would do. She placed her small bag on the floor and looked through it one more time.

Apart from her shabby clothing, the items in the bag were curious. There was a robe-like thing that she often used as a coat. It seemed as it was once splendid, but those days were obviously over. It was of nice quality with silver and green lining. It kept her warm as if by magic. The garment was often a subject of ridicule, not that any of the other orphans had anything better.

Besides this robe, there was a ring. It was, again, silver. It was adorned with emeralds and, after many years of gaping at it in awe, saw there was a small serpentine figure next to the emerald. Also, she found one single earing with a red vegetable looking thing on it. Maybe it was a radish, she'd have to ask Cookie.

Emmy had had these things ever since she was a little girl. When her parents left her here she had this and only this. She didn't remember her parents, but she sure hoped that they'd come back and saved her from this awful place.

Emmy was intrigued by this ring, but she had little time to wonder because she was being called by Cookie.

"Amm-ee!" she yelled, saying the name strangely.

Emmy ran into the kitchen. She presented herself to Cookie,

"Erm, hullo, I'm Emmy. Just Emmy. Mrs. Bush told me I would be...um...helping you."

"Ah, yes. Lemme guess: Da Bushy gal caught ya doin' someting 'gainst da rules an' she dold 'er motter. I git it all da time."

It took Emmy a while to figure what Cookie had said, and then she answered yes. Cookie's way of speaking was very odd. Emmy felt like it was a different language. She was very preoccupied and didn't really feel like solving any word puzzles.

Cookie gestured to the lettuce on the counter and Emmy took it as a signal to chop it. She picked up the knife and began to chop. It was boring and slow work. After ten minutes, she was wishing she wasn't here in the kitchen. And why were they having lettuce for breakfast?

She urged herself to go faster. Cookie was going fast. She could too. She took her hand off the knife and lifted it to wipe her forehead. She was utterly surprised when the knife continued to move.

Cookie stared at her, shocked.

"Err, yeah," Emmy said, "I'll just be getting back to that."

The lettuce had all been cut by the knife with a mind of it's own, so she helped Cookie with the porridge, vowing never to eat this porridge with lettuce in it.

"C'mere gal, eat this," said Cookie, handing Emmy a piece of toast. Emmy began to nibble on it. It was as hard as a rock!

"Dat was a fine trick ya pulled, gal. Mind teachin' me it, eh?" Cookie elbowed her.

"Sure thing," she hesitated to answer. How would she show her?

**A/N Again: These beginning chapters are short and slightly boring. They get progressively longer.**

**TWIGGIE**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Live Another Day_**

**Emmy: Twiggie doesn't own squat. So she uses Jo Rowling's ideas and works off of them. **

**Twiggie: So, didja figure out who Emmy is yet?**

**Chapter Three: Bushy Haired Savior...Almost**

Emmy threw herself down on the makeshift bed. She'd been working all day. Both with Cookie and cleaning the orphanage. She was tired and hungry; she would have even eaten the lettuce porridge she'd prepared earlier. But Emmy's options were slim to none in the food department, so she ate the bread Cookie had given her. She rested her head on the blanket. Orphanages weren't supposed to be cruel! Not anymore! Unluckily for Emmy, Mrs. Bush hated her for being different. Emmy was odd. She had made things happen on several occasions without meaning too.

There was a knock on the front door, and Emmy, being the servant girl, answered it. Standingthere was ashort lady with a massive mane of thick brown hair.

"Hello there," the lady said.

"Hi."

"Would Mrs. Bush be able to speak to me now?"

"Can I check, hold on. MRS. BUSH!"

Mrs. Bush bustled to the front door and gaped at the thick-haired lady. She was obviously not used to dealing with someone of higher position than her. The lady looked up to her, Mrs. Bush was large, but the lady was also imposing and you could tell she was highly intelligent.

"Come in," Mrs. Bush said, even though it looked like she wouldn't have wanted to let this lady in in a thousand years. The lady followed her into the hall.

Emmy could tell she wasn't invited, so she went back to her room under the stairwell and pondered who this lady could be.

**_LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD_**

"Mrs. Bush," said the lady, "I'm here to speak to you about one of your orphans here. She seems to be the type of child we are looking for at the school I teach at."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Bush inquired suspiciously.

"She has the necessary atributes to come and learn at the school. Her name has been down ever since she was born."

"Oh, I see. A scholarship?"

"Not quite."

"Which orphan?"

"Emmaline. I do believe she is called Emmy."

"I do believe she is called a foul creature of brattiness. And I don't even know who you are!" Mrs. Bush exclaimed.

"I'm Hermione. Hermione Weasley. I'm sorry Mrs. Bush, but Emmy must go to this school. It is essential for her."

"She has a life of servitude ahead of her, Miss Hermione. She does not need any schooling."

Hermione was putting two and two together. She figured Emmy was the girl at the door.

"Well, I see that this meeting did not do much. Could you please give her this letter?"

Hermione handed Mrs. Bush a thick envelope sealed with wax. She thought it was very odd. Why use this old-fashioned parchment when there are computers?

"Good-bye, Miss Hermione!" she called extra cheerily, hoping she would leave soon.

"Good riddence," Hermione muttered. She would have to see this girl, Emmy. At the door she hadn't paid much attention to her. Hermione stopped a lady with an apron and asked

"Excuse me, I'm Hermione Weasley. I would like to know where Emmy is please."

"Ah, right-o, Miss Hermione. That gal. She da magician, ya know that? Does crazy things. She was choppin' up da lettuce this morn wit me and then she took 'er hand up to wipe 'er brow, and what da ya know? Da knife keeps choppin' away. I do reckon 'twas a trick o' da light, but 'twas intrestin' to watch."

The lady hadn't told her where yet, so she let her talk about the orphanage and about how Emmy had ended up with the servant job. Then the lady was called by Mrs. Bush, so she scurried towards the voice. Hermione was left to look for herself. She saw a staircase and was intrigued. If only...she thought. It would be amazing. And it was.

Hermione opened the door to the small cupboard under the stairs. Emmy was laying down, just as her best friend Harry had done many years ago. Emmy was small and thin, uncannily like Harry when Hermione had seen him in the beginning of the year at Hogwarts.

Both orphans, both mistreated, both unloved.

Yet there was something more familiar about her that wasn't like Harry at all...Almost the opposite, it seemed.

Hermione vowed to herself that she would come back, or get some Aurors, to get this girl out of the orphanage and into her own world. She would have to come back tomorrow, with Harry and Ron. They needed to see this, they needed to help. Emmy needed their help, and she was going to get it. Why Hermione had been so touched by this girl was unknown, maybe it was because of her own small son? Whatever the reason, Hermione silently promised Emmy. _You're a witch, little girl. And according to that lady with the apron, you're a pretty good one. _

**Author's Note: Short, annoyingly so. **


	4. Chapter 4

**_Live Another Day_**

**Emmy: Hermione might seem a little OoC. She's very affected by this girl. Call it pity?**

**Roses are red, violets are blue. Jo owns Harry, is anything new?**

**Chapter 4: Hermione's Helping Hand**

Hermione burst into her house in rural Scotland. She was terribly upset and she wasn't talking.

"Hermione!" Ron gasped. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," she answered, trying to regain control. But she couldn't. She ran into Ron's arms and cried.

"It's-it's-it's-it's just not fair!" she wailed into his shirt. "Children deserve so much better than to be crammed in a cupboard under the stairs! It's terrible, Ron! I can't stand it! We have to get her out of there!"

Ron was utterly confused. He had thought she was talking about Harry.

"Er, Hermione dear," Ron inquired, "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"The girl, Emmy, from the orphanage!"

Comprehension dawned on Ron's face. So that was the girl Hermione had been talking about; her mission.

"Oh, Hermy, don't cry."

"Oh, Ronald, if you call me Hermy one more time I swear I'll strangle you."

Exactly the reaction Ron had been waiting for. Now she was serious, not emotional. Hermione didn't give him nearly enough credit...

"You did that on purpose!" she accused.

"So what if I did?"

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY! DO NOT ANNOY ME ON PURPOSE!"

And the aftertaste of his marvelous plan.

"THIS IS SERIOUS RONALD! THAT VILE WOMAN, THE ORPHANAGE DIRECTOR, IS NOT BUDGING! SHE'S NOT LETTING THIS LITTLE GIRL GO! SHE'S BEEN SENTENCED TO A LIFETIME OF SERVITUDE!"

Hermione was not cooling down as Ron had hoped she would.

"Hermio-"

"WE NEED TO GET HER OUT!"

"Her-"

"I NEED SOME HELP!"

_Yeah, mental help,_ Ron thought.

"HERMIONE JANE WEASLEY!" _That sounds good_, Ron thought again.

The use of "Weasley" caught Hermione's attention. After being married to Ronever since she was nineteen, she hadn't ever used that name. Her students at Hogwarts called her Professor Weasley, not that she answered to that often. Headmistress McGonagall called her Miss Granger, even though she was thirty-one years old.

"Yes, Ron."

"Do you realize," Ron said, "That we have Harry and his full regiment of Aurors as well as Dumbledore's portrait in the Headmaster's Office, that we can use for help?"

Hermione was flabbergasted. Ron had thought of something that she had not! She planned to mark this day on the calendar...

"Then what are you waiting for! Let's go see Harry!"

"Hermione, it's almost 12:30." Ron was not nearly affected as emotionally as Hermione was.

But Hermione was already grabbing some Floo Powder from the jar by the fireplace. She stepped into the fire and said "THE POTTERS, GODRIC'S HOLLOW!" Ron followed suit.

Harry seemed surprised when his two best friends appeared in his living room at 12:30 in the night.

"Harry?" Ginny called, "Are you all right?"

"We have visitors."

"Oh?"

"Take a guess."

"Oh."

"Are we really that predictable?" Ron asked.

"Coming on an impulse at midnight is a wee bit strange, mate."

"Sorry," Hermione appoligised,"But we need your help. My mission, getting that girl Emmy, is way to much. It's a whole lot more than I bargained for. You see, Harry, this girl is like you."

Harry cringed. Ron didn't understand their mutual obsession with this child.

"She's in a cupboard under the stairs!"

Harry gasped. "No."

"Yes."

"Merlin."

With a silent agreement between them, the three friends Flooed to the Headmaster's Office at Hogwarts.

Like Harry, Professor McGonagall, or now as she is called, Headmistress McGonagall, looked surprised to see her former students and her colleague.

"Miss Granger!" Nothing could coax Professor McGonagall out of her old ways.

"Um, Professor? We need to talk to Dumbledore."

**A/N: Title copyright JKR. So's all the characters.**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Live Another Day_**

**Emmy: This chapter is SWEET! **

**Rosy: How come I haven't been in this?**

**Emmy: 'Cos you're not _magic!_**

**Rosy: Argh. Read and review people!**

**Violet: Twiggie owns a box of Cheerios that doubles as her house. Do you even think she owns Harry?**

**Chapter 5: Witch**

"Miss Granger?"

"Professor, I know it's late but-"

"The child, I know."

Hermione looked confused.

"Minerva has informed me about your "mission." I feel history is repeating."

Everyone except Harry looked confused now.

"Only I hope we do not recieve a second Dark Lord."

He talks like a fortune cookie, Ron thought.

"Tom Riddle hailed from that same orphanage."

Recognition swept everyone's face, and then horror.

"What can I do, Professor?"

"I believe we might need to use magic, Mrs. Bush is a bright lady, even though it doesn't seem it. She is inquisitive. The problem is she's not willing to give up the child, correct?"

"Correct."

Hermione wondered how Dumbledore was still one of incredible knowledge, after all, he was dead and had been for several years. She thought it was his pictures, which hung in almost every household in the wizarding world. But he usually occupied his Headmaster's one. After all, he would only have left Hogwarts when no one there needed him.

"Miss Granger, please use a mild Confundus Charm on Mrs. Bush. But please attempt to persuade her once more. It's not such a big deal. We'll get Emmy back here in the end."

"Professor, do you know anything about her?"

Dumbledore seemed to be pondering which answer to choose. He obviously did know something, but he thought they didn't need to know it.

"You'll learn in due time, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "I was wondering if you wanted to take a teaching position at Hogwarts for the year. We always seem to be short one teacher.

"I thought Seamus-"

"Mr. Finnigan thought it well to uphold the curse of the one-year Defense Against the Dark Arts position."

"Well, you see, Lily is starting Hogwarts and she might be embarassed."

"Harry, if anything, your daughter would be happy. From what I know, she loves this."

"But Voldemort...I need to keep her safe."

"What safer place is there?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"Yeah, all right."

"Now Miss Granger, use a Confundus on Mrs. Bush for the girl. Then go and see her. Explain all of this, it's difficult to comprehend."

"Yes, Professor."

"Good, all right, get going!"

**_LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD_**

Emmy woke up to rapping on her door.

"C'min," Emmy groaned.

A lady stood outside her little cupboard. She seemed vaguely familiar to Emmy.

"Emmaline?"

"Emmy," she answered automatically.

"Well, yes. All right. You see Emmy," she continued, "There's no way to put this easily. Emmaline," a grunt from Emmy, "You are a witch."

"Thaaaaaaaanks, that's so kind."

"I'm serious!"

"Sure, Miss-What did you say your name was?"

"Weasley."

"All right Weasley, Mrs. Bush put you up to this, didn't she?"

"No," Hermione was beginning to become impatient.

She took out her wand, ignoring the questioning stare she was recieving from Emmy. She searched to find something impressive to do. Hermione didn't want to horrify her, just knock some sense into her. She waved her wand, hearing Professor Flitwick's voice in her ear and thinking of a troll. Emmy's blanket lifted into the air. She stared at it, dumbfounded.

"You're a witch?"

"Yes."

"But, what about the you know, broomstick and the wart?"

Hermione laughed aloud.

"I only watch Quidditch; I can't play for my life. And that's a common misconception, the wart. Most witches don't have one."

"So I'm a witch?" Emmy inquired uncertainly.

"Yes."

"Do I get a stick too?"

"It's a wand, Emmaline. And yes, you get one. You need to come with me."

"Mrs. Bush...?"

"...Is all taken care of."

"Okay."

"Get your things."

It took Emmy all of a minute to gather all of her things. In the process of gathering the items, Hermione thought she saw a familiar vegetable-shaped earing. But it was whisked into the bag quickly...She knew Dumbledore knew something, she knew this was a clue of some sort.

**A/N: Contrary to poular belief, Hermione is NOT Headmaster. Just making sure you knew...Anyhoo, please review.**

**_Twig_**


	6. Chapter 6

**_Live Another Day_**

**Emmy: _This _is the best chapter besides Chapter Twelve! I know who I am!**

**Rosy: R 'n' R!**

* * *

Hermione Apparated from the orphanage with Emmy at her side. Emmy had never Side-Along Apparated, and she looked utterly terrified. Hermione found it quite comical, but she kept her laughter to herself.

"Where are we?" Emmy asked.

"Diagon Alley."

"Dragon Alley? Where's the dragons?" Emmy tried to peek around in search for the dragons that were seemingly invisible.

"Die-ah-gon," Hermione pronounced for her.

"Oh. Why are we here?" Hermione found that she saw herself more than Harry now. Harry was quiet and humble, but this Emmy was inquisitive and wouldn't be quiet.

"To get your school supplies. Like a wand."

"Right, that stick thing. And what else?"

"Read your list."

Emmy's eyes scanned the page for a moment, and then she said, "Besides the wand, I'll need three," she stopped to confirm the number, "Yes, that's the number, black work robes for daily wear. As well as a pointed black hat for the same cause. Also, a pair of dragon hide gloves or similar. Protective gloves, I mean. Also a winter cloak with silver fastenings. And it says here that my belongings should carry name tags. Well, that's common sense, isn't it Miss Weasley?"

"It's Professor Weasley Emmy."

"Really? So you're a teacher at this school?"

"That's right!" Hermione was in awe of this girl. She was sharp, quick and so much like her that Hermione was becoming emotional.

"Okay, so I'll also need books for the classes I'm going to have," at this point Emmy's face gave way to a look of complete bliss as she savored the moment. Hermione knew what the cause was.

"You like books, Emmy?"

"Very much Professor. Mrs. Bush didn't let me have many, so I'd sneak into Callandra's room and steal them." She looked a bit bashful. "But I always gave them back!" she defended.

Hermione nodded, knowing what it was to like a book so very much. To want a book so much. She felt like she needed to read them. As a young child she'd done the same thing at her primary school.

Emmy continued along with the list, ignoring Hermione's flashback.

"...And Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander," she concluded.

"All right Emmy, anything else."

"Yes, Professor. Like I already said, I need a wand. I also need a size-two pewter cauldron and a set of crystal phials. A Telescope is needed too, as well as one set of brass scales. And it says I can also bring a cat, owl, or toad, but I'm not allowed to own a broomstick."

"All right Emmy."

"But Professor, where am I going to get the money to buy all these things?"

"Gringotts, the wizard bank, has a fund for Muggleborn students beginning Hogwarts. You can use that, but your things might be second hand."

"S'all right, Professor, I'm used to it."

"So our first stop will be Ollivander's. That's the wand shop. He's been doing business for many, many years now, and he was held hostage by Death Eaters a few years back. He's an excellent wizard, so he found a way out."

"What are Death Eaters?"

Hermione had been waiting for this question. Over the past few weeks, even before she met inquisitive Emmy, she'd been thinking of how to answer this question, for it was bound to come up. She'd thought and thought, but there was no cunning way of putting it so someone would understand and yet not be afraid. Because it was a frightening thing. Voldemort had still not been conquered, and his Death Eaters were terrorizing the cities and towns across Europe.

"Well, Emmy," she began, unaware of what she would say, "Are you easily frightened?"

"No Professor."

"Good. The Death Eaters are followers of the Dark Lord V-v-v-Voldemort. Voldemort is one of the most powerful wizards of all time. But he does not use magic for good. He uses it for evil. Death Eaters kill and terrorize random people for random causes, but the most common one is to rid the world of filthy blood, wizards like you and I that aren't Pureblood, all wizard. They harm wizards and Muggles alike, but especially Harry Potter. He was the first to survive the Killing Curse. He was thought to have defeated Lord Voldemort, the most feared, but he didn't. Voldemort was still alive, as pathetic as his existence was. And he's still terrorizing people today."

Emmy gasped.

"But we don't need to dwell upon that. Now let's get your wand!"

Emmy's mind was brought off the topic of Voldemort by the many wands and the slightly scary Mr. Ollivander. She ended up getting a twelve and a half inch mahogany wand with a dragon heartstring core. She was delighted.

After getting all her supplies, Hermione took Emmy back to her house where Emmy immediately fell asleep. She awoke several hours later to a long nosed freckled red-haired man shaking her shoulder.

"Emmy?"

"Yeah?"

"Well it's time for dinner, Hermione made something special for you... By the way, my name's Ron."

Emmy still looked confused.

"Who's Hermione? I was just in Dragon Alley with Professor Weasley."

"Professor Weasley is my wife. Her first name is Hermione. Just call her that. I really don't feel like calling someone Professor."

"What about when I get to school? Can I still call her Hermione?"

Ron laughed. "Of course."

The settled down for dinner; Emmy, Ron, Hermione, and their two-year-old son, Matthew. Emmy found Matthew quite adorable. Dinner was a joyous activity; talking and laughing. Emmy found Ron hilarious. Emmy liked the wizarding world.

The next day was hectic, trying to get all of Hermione's and Emmy's things together. They would  
be both leaving for Hogwarts the next day; September the first. Hermione was taking her faithful companion Crookshanks and Emmy was bringing along her owl, whom she named Mugwump. The two animals did not get along as well as would be liked, so they were kept in their respective cages.

They arrived at King's Cross Station with some time to spare, because Hermione was organized enough and she wanted to get Emmy settled. She mumbled to herself for some time about Harry and Ginny, whoever those people are. They were late. Finally, they arrived around seven and three-fourths of a minute to eleven.

"There you are!" Hermione exclaimed, "I haven't seen you in the past few days! This is Emmy," she introduced, pointing to the pale blonde girl.

"Hello, Emmy," Harry greeted.

"How's it been going?" Ginny added.

"Hi Emmy! I'm Lily Minerva Potter."

Emmy was taken aback by the sudden introduction. She was outgoing, but not that outgoing.

"Um...hello. I'm Emmy."

"Hey!"

Even through this odd introduction Lily was giving, Emmy knew she'd be friends with this girl. It was just something that would happen. She could sense it.

"Emmy?" Hermione asked, "This is Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

Emmy was piecing this all together very fast. So this had to be Harry Potter and Ginny Potter.

"It's Harry," he said, sticking out his hand for Emmy to shake. She took it and shook it amiably. She took Ginny's next.

"Oh dear!" Hermione exclaimed.

The rushed onto the train, dragging their trunks behind them. Emmy and Lily chatted together like they were old friends that had so much to catch up on. Hermione saw them to a compartment. They sat down at talked.

"So you said your name was Emmy. What's your last name?"

"Um, well you see...I'm an orphan. I dunno my last name. I've been there for years."

"Oh. Do you like Quidditch? I have a broom. Of course, I can't fly it here, but Dad taught me at home. My dad is Harry Potter. He's famous, I suppose, but he's not better than anyone else. He always is calling on his friends and Mum to help him. It's kind of funny."

"Oh. Quidditch is a broomstick game, right? And Hermione told me all about Harry. She gave me a book on him actually. He's had a rather interesting life, hasn't h-"

But then the friends were interrupted by a scrawny boy with mousy hair tripping into their compartment.

"Hey, I'm Owen Finkes."

"Hello Owen Finkes," Emmy said. "I'm Emmy and this is Lily."

"Oh hello, can I sit here?" he inquired uncertainly.

"Of course," Lily replied.

Owen Finkes and Lily discussed Quidditch; their favorite teams, brooms, and players. Emmy hid herself behind the book Hermione had given her about Harry Potter. It was called 'The Boy Who Lived--The Life and Times of Harry Potter.' It was by a lady called Rita Skeeter. Emmy found all the names in the wizarding world strange. Rita Skeeter sounded like a name for a bug.

Before they knew it, a big, hairy man was calling for the first years.

"HAGRID!" Lily called, running over to him.

He beckoned the trio into a boat, and set them into the Lake. They arrived at the front door to see Hermione. She gave an encouraging smile to Emmy and then told them to come in. They walked into a small room off the front foyer. Hermione told them to wait in here for a moment. She walked briskly out and then Lily explained.

"We're going to get Sorted! Uncle Fred said you need to wrestle a troll, but Mum told me we need to put on a hat and it'll choose what house we're in. You want to be in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. Not Slytherin. That's the Death Eater house."

Owen Finkes and Emmy stored this information.

"Mum's never told me about this," Owen said.

Hermione was back, and she led them out into the Great Hall. Emmy was overwhelmed by the mass of students.

"Line up!" Hermione barked.

The first years did as the were told. Hermione put a hat on a stool, and Emmy was amazed when it began to sing, but she was too preoccupied with what lay ahead to listen. Aaron, Kathryn was the first to be Sorted, and she was made a Ravenclaw. The first Gryffindor was Owen Finkes. Emmy and Lily cheered. The Sorting went on. Emmy wondered when her name would be called. Maybe at the end, for people with no last names. But she didn't have to wait much longer.

Hermione looked at the list of students and gasped. Suddenly the narrow face and the blonde hair made sense. She matched the pale skin and gray eyes to another person. She took in a deep breath and called out

"Malfoy, Emmaline."

**A/N: BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! And now you know! I was feeling too lazy to write a Sorting Hat song. (Tsk tsk)**


	7. Chapter 7

**_Live Another Day_**

**Twiggie:BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Left you with a cliffhanger, but don't fret.**

**Chapter 7: Findings of a (Good) Malfoy**

_Flashback to the Chapter 6_

"Malfoy, Emmaline."

_Wow, short flashback_

The staff in the Hall gasped, but Emmy did not know what the fuss was. Who was this Malfoy girl? But then it hit her, like punch in the back. She was Emmaline Malfoy. But what was the big deal? It was a deal to her, because she was finding out about herself, but no one else cared, right? She soon saw that was wrong. Everyone was panicking. Harry Potter, the nice man she met before, was one of the only staff members not to glare at her. Hermione didn't either. For that, Emmy was thankful. But Harry was looking at her in an odd way, like one might gaze at a puzzle. Like he was trying to figure something out. Emmy did recieve that punch she'd experienced moments before, and it hurt more than she expected. A sneering pug-like boy with hair blonder than hers had pushed her. She opened her wide eyes to him. He looked almost exactly like her, besides his puggy face.

"You're not a Malfoy," he sneered, a malicious grin on his face.

"I think I am. I know I am."

This Pug looked very annoyed that she was standing up to him. He didn't get that much. He ws always all powerful and controlling.

"Malfoy, Emmaline," Hermione called again.

Emmy walked up to the stool confidently, ignoring everyone's startled gazes. Hermione gave her a reassuring look. Harry was still looking at her curiosly, and when he saw her looking at him, he nodded in a way that meant, "You'll find out." She knew he meant he'd explain about the stares.

She sat atop the stool and pulled the Hat unto her head. Unlike her father before her, the Hat did not yell SLYTHERIN as soon as in came in contact with her. It slid over her eyes and she heard a voice whisper in her ear. "Another Malfoy? But you're not like them."

"Who are the Malfoys?" she thought.

"Your family," came the answer, "All have been in Slytherin, but you? What house will you be in, Miss Emmy?"

"I don't know," she told the Hat.

"Ravenclaw favors wits, Slytherin favors cunning, Hufflepuff favors loyalty and just, and Gryffindor favors the bold. Which will you be?"

"Not Slytherin. Anything else," she pleaded.

"Why not Slytherin?"

"They don't look too happy at the table. They look angry and mean. Like they think they're better than everyone. I'm different."

"Ah yes, you are."

"I want to be in another house."

"Your mother was a Ravenclaw."

"My mother...?"

"Yes, a bright girl she was. I wee bit on the odd side, but she was intelligent."

"So what about me?"

"I don't believe you'd be a Slytherin, or a Ravenclaw. Not that you're not witty, but I see something else here. Boldness and daring, confidence and will."

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat shouted.

Emmy pulled the Hat off over her head to see Hermione's smiling face. In fact, she was beaming. Emmy looked over to Harry, and he looked relieved. She skipped down to the Gryffindor table, but instead of the applause that the other First Years had recieved, she recieved glares again. Like she didn't belong. The Slytherins looked aghast. How could this little blonde Malfoy, of all families, not be in Slytherin?

But Emmy was very happy to be a Gryffindor. She sat down next to Owen Finkes. He smiled to her.

"Why does it make a difference that I'm a Malfoy?" she asked curiously.

"'Cos," he informed her, "All the Malfoys were Slytherins and Death Eaters. I dunno much else though. I s'pect you could ask one of the Professors when lessons start tomorrow."

Emmy's mind was troubled by the Malfoy thought.

"But not all of my family were Death Eaters," she told Owen Finkes.

"I think they were," he said.

"No. The Hat said my mum," her mouth fumbled to form the word, "Was in Ravenclaw."

"Oh? Who was she?"

"I really don't know...I was an orphan with not family to know about until today. I didn't even know my last name."

Lily Potter was made a Gryffindor as well. Owen Finkes and Emmy both clapped extra loudly when it was announced. Lily bounced happily over to the table.

"I'm so glad," she gasped, "I was holding my breath! I was so nervous!"

The Sorting ended with Red Zarrow becoming a Gryffindor. And then a stern looking lady with gray flecks in her black hair and square spectacles stood up.

"That's Professor McGonagall," Lily hissed to Emmy, "My dad and mum know her. She was there teacher when they were here. She took the place of Dumbledore."

Before Emmy could ask who Mumbledore-or was it Dumbledee?-was, the lady, whom she assumed was the Headmistress, began to speak.

"Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts!" she began, "To those of you who are just beginning, I am Headmistress McGonagall. Now, I would like to say a few words, first uttered by a great man. And those are: Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak!"

Emmy saw Harry, with tears glistening in his eyes, mouthe the words along with her. Hermione, sitting at Harry's side, was also saying the phrase. She had a sorrowful look in her eyes. Then she began to cry silently as Harry patted her back. McGonagall's bespectacled eyes were also filled with silent tears. They all seemed to be remembering. Whether it was a good or bad thing, Emmy couldn't tell.

Her mind was brought abruptly back to the table when it began being filled with foods of all sorts. She had never seen so much food in her life! With that, she began stuffing herself with roast chicken and potatoes and carrots, all delicious and filling. By the end of her second helping, she hadn't ever felt so full before. She was drowsy, but in a good, stuffed, blissful way. Professor McGonagall got up again to make an announcement (or a few, Emmy learned).

"Now, this is a review for the older students," she looked at a pair of redheaded girls, Emmy reckoned they were twins. "But this is the first time for the younger students to learn the rules. First off, the Forbidden Forest is, surprisingly, forbidden. Next, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has compiled a list of some six hundred contraband items. If you would like to check with him what you can and cannot have, please see him in his office. There will be no magic between classes, or in any other harmful way in or outside of lessons unless it is the lesson. Lastly, please do not, under any circumstance, disrupt the teachers lounge. It is being used at this point, for Minisrty of Magic conferences. That is all."

Hermione began at that point to sing under her breath. Professor McGonagall, surprisingly, joined her. A tiny little professor added his voice, as did a plump man with dirt on his clothes. It was like a song with no melody.

"...Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff..."

It was an odd song, but Emmy soon found herself singing along. They all sang to there own tune. The professors sang with sadness in their eyes, the students with joy.

Emmy, Lily, and Owen Finkes got up after the song was sung and followed a prefect up a marble staircase. They were headed to the Gryffindor Tower. Emmy and Lily split off from Owen Finkes and went up a spiral staircase, into their dormitory, which the sign on the door read, FIRST YEARS. Emmy had never been more comfortable. She was well fed, happy, and in a comfortable bed, dreaming lazily about what would happen in her first year.

The next day Emmy woke up early and woke Lily. They pulled on their robes and crept down to the Great Hall. There was already breakfast on the table. The Gryffindor table, Emmy reminded herself, not the Slytherin one. She found that she wasn't unhappy to break the chain of Slytherin Malfoys. In a way, she hadn't. That boy who punched her in the back was a Malfoy, and in Slytherin. She didn't know how. She was a Malfoy, and so was he. Maybe they were long-lost cousins or something. He didn't bother her much, besides the fact that he might be related to her. She didn't want to be related to a snotty Slytherin.

**A/N: If you don't know who Emmy's mum is, you have ZERO reading comprehension. I'm sorry (yeah right) if Emmy calling Owen Finkes Owen Finkes bothers you, but that's a habit I have.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight: Questions, Answers, and Desire**

**Emmy: Lovin' this chapter! **

**Rosy: I am red, Violet's blue. This isn't Twiggie's; please don't sue!**

Emmy and Lily were down in the Great Hall, and soon were joined by Owen Finkes. Professor Weasley gave them their schedules. After breakfast they would attempt to find the Transfiguration classroom. It wasn't likely they would find it however, because the staircases moved! Emmy was surprised when one of the staircases began to shift on her way to breakfast. It scared her a bit.

After a hearty breakfast, the three ventured from the Hall early, as they suspected the classroom would be hard to find. Apparently, on the first day, the stairs and hallways decided against being deceiving. Even though, they had to trek several staircases and into several corridors to find the right place. After years of searching, it seemed, Emmy spotted the room. Professor Weasley had made it up there already, and the Trio were the first to arrive.

Professor Weasley was grading summer papers. She seemed as if she hadn't noticed them, but she greeted with a surprising,

"Hello!"

"Hi Hermione!" Emmy answered.

Hermione looked stern for a moment, and then changed her mind. Owen Finkes looked timid, as this lady appeared stern. She beckoned them to sit and said,

"You three are a bit early. I will not believe you actually wanted to go to class."

In the truth, Emmy had wanted to go to class today, and was excited. But everyone else wasn't. She supposed it was because all the magic the others had seen at home, this was no different. Lily, always the chatterbox, answered Professor Weasley.

"Do you really think we'd do that Aunt Hermione! We thought we'd get lost! So we came up from breakfast early. How early are we?"

"Well, you are about forty minutes early."

"WHAT?" Lily exclaimed.

Bugger, thought Emmy, I got up early for nothing?

Everyone seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Oh, what wrong with being in school early?" Hermione inquired.

Emmy found nothing wrong with it, but Owen Finkes and Lily obviously thought it was treason.

"Exactly what you said," Lily answered her, "The school part."

Hermione laughed.

Another professor came in, this one with raven black hair and emerald eyes. A lightning bolt shaped scar was etched onto his forehead. Harry Potter looked troubled. Harry walked over to Hermione and mumbled something to her. He looked shy now, not as happy as he had earlier at the train station. Hermione beckoned for Emmy to come over.

"Emmy, Professor Potter and I would like to have a word with you," she said.

"Alright Hermione."

Hermione told Owen Finkes and Lily to wait awhile in the classroom without touching anything. If they did, they'd get a detention, she warned. The two professors and Emmy walked out of the classroom into Hermione's office, which Emmy found was filled with books. Harry took a seat and Hermione followed suit, sitting at her desk. Emmy went to the wooden chair in front of the desk, a tad bit uncomfortably. She thought that she was in trouble.

But what did I do? Emmy thought, scanning her brain for anything outside the rules. She found nothing of course, but what if she'd broken a rule without knowing it was a rule! She didn't want to lose any house points for that.

"Emmy," Hermione said gently.

Emmy nodded to say she was paying attention.

"Well Emmy," Hermione continued. "We," she motioned to Harry and herself, "Do not normally go into the personal lives of our students, but we need to talk to you. The Sorting Hat speaks to you when you place it on your head. It sometimes argues with you, or even doesn't talk and just contemplates what house you might be in. We need to know if it said anything about your family...?" she faltered and rushed out the last bit.

Emmy felt very uncomfortable, but she realized she might get some answers to the questions in her head. What had the Hat said about her family? Slytherins. Besides her mother...Who was her mother? A Ravenclaw. An odd Ravenclaw. But Emmy didn't know anything else about her. She had no memories, or anything to remember her by. She didn't even know her name.

"Um, the Hat did say some things about my family..."

Hermione's face lit up, but Harry's still looked like it needed some more answers.

"Emmy," he said, "We really need to know about you. It would help us greatly in our fight against Voldemort." When he said this, Hermione subtly winced. Emmy looked fearlessly on.

"The Hat really didn't say much Har-Professor Potter," she struggled with his name.

"It's Harry," he reminded.

"Okay, Harry. The Hat said that my dad," she couldn't say it correctly, because the word was so new. "It said my dad was in Slytherin, and all of my family was too. It didn't say who he was though, I don't remember. I was two or three when I came to the orphanage, and I don't have much to remember him b-...Oh!" she exclaimed, "Slytherin is green, right?"

"Yes," Harry said slowly.

"Well I have an old robe I guess in my bag. It's one of the only things I have. It's big and black with green lining."

"Really?" Hermione and Harry exchanged a look of recognition. "Anything else you have?"

"Yes, a silver ring with an emerald and a small snake on it."

"Emmy," Harry began. "We think we know who your father was." He sounded disgusted by the fact.

"Do you?"

"Yes Emmy, and he's really not a very nice person. He did go to this school, and he was very mean, especially to Harry," Hermione added.

"He was mean to you too," Harry said to her.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. Emmy, your last name is Malfoy. Your father's name was Draco. Draco Malfoy. He is, or was, a Death Eater. We're not very certain. He's not a nice pers-"

"Ferret," Harry interrupted.

"We realized Draco was your father, but your mother is more of a mystery. I'm positive Dumbledore knows something, but he's not telling us. Did the Hat say anything about your mother by any chance?"

Emmy wasn't sure she wanted to say anything. She wanted a little information to herself. But she also wanted to know who her mother was. She was sure Harry and Hermione could figure it out if she couldn't. She did not have to think of an answer, however, because a bell sounded somewhere overhead. Hermione bolted up.

"Tell us some other time!"

Emmy and Hermione continued to the Transfiguration room. In the beginning it was just lectures, and then Hermione gave them a sample of some Transfiguration. She turned Lily's desk into a cactus. The Gryffindors applauded. The Slytherins looked bored. Too bad for them, Emmy thought, they have no fun.

Pug came up to Emmy and gruffly pushed her. Hermione didn't notice, as she was talking to some other Gryffindors about where Herbology was.

"Hey!" Emmy said.

"What?" Pug sneered.

"You pushed me."

"Really? Usually you don't notice filth."

"Gee, thanks. I suppose you like being filth, then. If I am you are too. We do share a surname."

Pug looked like he'd been hit by a Quidditch team.

He began by sputtering, but then regained his cool.

"You are of no relation to me!"

"I don't see any other Malfoys," Emmy turned on her heel and stalked away.

She really needed to find a lavatory. She ran around and found herself on the seventh floor, next to a blank wall.

Okay, she thought, I need to remember. She paced around for a while. Then, suddenly, a door appeared on the wall. She took the knob uncertainly, and then opened it. In the room was a nice bathroom, complete with sinks and everything. She quickly stepped into a stall. When she stepped out, the room had changed.

Instead of the nice bathroom, there was a mirror in the center of the room. It was beautiful, and it reached the ceiling. Gold adorned it. Emmy was intrigued. She took another step closer and scanned it. There was an inscription on the top that said something strange. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi. The gibberish didn't mean anything to Emmy. She looked into the mirror.

But she didn't see herself.

Staring back at her was a woman who looked around twenty three. She had protuberant bluish eyes and almost no eyesbrows. Just like Emmy. Her dirty blonde hair was hanging a few inches past her shoulders. She had one earring, that was identical to the one Emmy had. Her wand was stuck behind her ear. Some kind of necklace, made out of cork, was around her neck. She had multicolored socks on, and held a blue patch in her hand. Emmy wondered why she was seeing this woman. Then it came to her.

This strange lady. This odd Ravenclaw. She was Emmy's mother.

Emmy forgot about Herbology and raced out of the bathroom, trying to find Hermione. She crashed into her walking in the corridor.

"Emmy! Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Hermione! You told me to tell you about my mother! I know, I know. I've seen her!"

"Emmy, calm down! Where did you see her?"

"In a mirror. She was standing there and looking at me. In a mirror!"

"In a mirror...?" Hermione repeated.

"Yes."

"Merlin's beard!" Hermione exclaimed."We need to find Harry."

Both of them ran down the hall and into another classroom, where Harry was busy giving a lecture.

"Harry I need you now!"

Harry looked startled. "Class, enough with this lecture. Read chapter one. I'll be back!"

They went into Harry's study and sat down, this time Harry at the desk.

"Harry," Emmy choked out, of breath. "I saw my mother. In a mirror."

Harry gasped. "No..."

"Did it have an inscription on it? Did it show you what you wanted to see?"

"Yes! Yes it did! I wanted to find out who my mother was. But it didn't say, I just saw her."

"Before you tell us, Emmy," Harry said. "Where did you find this mirror?"

"In a room. A bathroom actually. I really needed to use the bathroom, so I paced around trying to remember where it was."

"Was this room on the seventh floor?"

"I suppose it was..."

Hermione had figured it out as well. Emmy had stumbled upon the Room of Requirement.

"Well, what did you see?"

"A lady. She had blonde-ish hair, but it has more like...dirty blonde. Her eyes were like mine, wide and bluish gray. She had an earring, it looked like a radish. And a necklace, a cork one. I have an earring just like it! She's the odd Ravenclaw the Hat was telling me about."

Instant recognition hit the faces of Harry and Hermione. They gasped in unison.

"Draco...? She's definitely Draco's, but Luna's?"

It all made sense. Her wide eyes, her blonde-brown hair. The radish earring she had. Luna's girl. But Luna and Draco?

Luna had disappeared the year after she graduated from Hogwarts. Had she gone with Draco? Most likely. They were positive. But where did she go? She had Draco's child, she was probably killed.

"Emmy, we know who your mother is. Her name was Luna. She, unlike your father, was nice, sweet, caring person. You're lucky to have had her for your mum. We don't know what happened to her. Emmy, she's probably dead."


	9. Chapter 9

**_Live Another Day_**

**Twiggie: I named the Draco/Luna shipFrozen Radishes! It kicksSirius arse!**

**Chapter 9: The Ferret and the Looney**

"Emmy?" Hermione said. "We know it's hard."

Emmy couldn't believe it. After all those years in the orphanage dreaming that her parents would someday return, she realized they're not coming back. That lady in the mirror, her mother, was someone she wanted to know. Emmy wanted to know what happened. She wanted to know about her mother. And father, she realized. It didn't matter how evil Hermione and Harry were saying he was. He was still her father. And Pug's! He had to be Pug's father too. After all, they shared a surname and looked alike.

Hermione was talking again. "Emmy? Do you need anything?"

"Uh, can you tell me about my parents?"

It was Harry's turn to talk. "Of course we can, but not now. Come by later; after dinner..." his thought dropped off into nothing.

"Well, I want to know about them. Badly."

Harry knew how she felt. When he had come to Hogwarts, he was suddenly surrounded by people that knew his parents, and he wanted desperately to know what happened to them. Why he was stuck at the Dursleys. Why everyone knew him. Why he had a scar.

"Emmy, you need to go to class. Harry must teach and so do I," Hermione stated.

"It's fine Hermione," Harry said, surprising her. "I'll talk to Emmy, you go and teach."

Hermione stood up uncertainly, made up her mind, and left.

"Harry? Can you tell me about my family?"

"Some things about them. And then I don't know what happened."

"Alright," Emmy said.

"Let me start with a little about me. I have no parents; they died -were murdered- when I was one. I was left with my aunt and uncle, and this horrid pig of a cousin. I thought my parents had died in a car crash, but they had been killed by Voldemort. Then, when I was eleven, it turned out that I was a wizard like my parents. I know what you're feeling. I wanted to know all about my parents as well."

Emmy felt a growing admiration towards the boy who lived.

"What do you want to know?"

"It would be good to know names and such first."

"That would be a good place to start, wouldn't it? Your father was Draco Malfoy. As I said, he is not a very nice ferret. You look like him, actually. He had white-blonde hair and cold gray eyes, and a narrow face like yours. Malfoy was a Slytherin, and a Death Eater. He is still alive, but his status as a Death Eater as well as location is unknown. I haven't seen him in over ten years. He was originally supposed to murder Dumbledore, but fell out of his duty to the Dark Lord, Voldemort and did not. That may have proved his loyalty to Dumbledore, but it could haze been an act. Anyway, he fled that night along with several other slimy Death Eaters."

He could tell Emmy was confused. All this information, saying he's both almost nice and evil? She must be processing this quite quickly.

"Emmy, I know you're confused. So I'm going to show you your father."

That made Emmy even more confused. Harry went into a cupboard and pulled out a large basin that seemed to be filled with silvery stuff.

"This is a Pensieve Emmy. It lets me store my memories so they don't crowd in my head."

He put his wand to his head and pulled out what looked like a silver hair.

"This is a while ago. I was eleven years old, and it was my first day at Hogwarts. See if you can recognize your father."

Emmy felt a whirring, rushing feeling and then she landed hard on the ground.

At first she thought she had only traveled back a few days. The scene around her was very familiar. It was the Hogwarts Express, still very much the same. But she saw different people there, a little boy with raven hair and emerald green eyes, and a tall, long-nosed freckly boy with flaming red hair. They sat, mumbling to eachother. Then stepped in three boys, the same age as Harry and his friend.

The boys on the outside were large, and yet the one in the middle, who controlled them, was small, pale and blonde. Something oddly familiar...and then it hit Emmy. This was Draco, this was her father.

"Is it true?" he inquired. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, isn't it?"

"Yes." Harry answered. Emmy could tell that this was Harry; he looked almost the same now.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," Draco added, beckoning to his bodyguards. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

The red head laughed slightly at his name.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children that they can afford."

Now, the red head scowled. Emmy had had hopes for her father being decent, but this was terrible! Draco didn't seem to notice, he was acting so superior. He turned his back on the red hair, and began to speak to Harry again.

"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't wan to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He gave his hand to Harry for him to shake, agreeing, but Harry didn't take it. Harry looked affronted.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

Draco winced, and faltered for a moment, turning slightly rosy.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."

Harry took her hand and the memory disappeared.

"Do you know who your father was?"

"Yes, Harry. The sickly looking blonde boy. His face is just like mine. I saw you too. And those burly boys, Crabbe and Goyle did he say? I don't think I know that other boy, though."

"Sure you do."

"Really?"

"Of course! That's Ron."

"Oh, right."

"So what do you think?"

Emmy didn't want to say. She wanted a knight for her father, a good man. Now she knew he was an arrogant, evil person. He would never save her. And he wouldn't come back.

"Well, he wasn't...very nice at all."

"That's right. Emmy, your father was a very mean person. He was, you could say, my enemy besides Voldemort when I was at school. He despised me, and I the same for him. We were very nasty to eachother."

"Oh."

"So would you like to see your mother?"

Emmy nodded, looked into the basin and fell to the ground, yet again on the Hogwarts Express. She looked around. Harry seemed older, and there were more people she recognized, as they were much easier to recognize. She saw Harry, and Ginny, as well as that woman in the mirror and one other boy.

The girl looked like she was maybe thirteen or fourteen, and had longish dirty blonde hair and large, protuberant eyes. Over her eyes were strange spectacles, that were multicolored and they annunciated her eyes. She was reading a magazine upside-down, and looking very strange. Harry grasped her arm again, and they were back in his office.

"That's my mother?"

"I'm very sure it is."

"She was odd."

"Surely she was! But she was very nice, caring. She was also extremely intelligent. I just never knew that she would do something as stupid as love Draco."

Emmy, as much as she didn't like Harry badmouthing her mother, saw truth in this. Who would like this arrogant sod that was Draco?

"Emmy," Harry said. "Hermione and I are going to do our best to figure out what happened. I know how you feel. My parents were too gone from me."

Emmy didn't interrupt Harry's sad moment.

Emmy strode out of the room and back to class. Herbology was long over, so she went to Hermione's classroom to find her schedule. Hermione was going down to lunch, and Emmy joined her.

"You saw your parents," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

Even though it wasn't a question, Emmy still answered yes.

"That's good, I'm hungry, you?"

"Lunch sounds good, don't it?"

"Doesn't it."

**A/N: Text copyright JKR, all rights reserved. (pgs. 108, 109 Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Philosopher's Stone, 1997 Bloomsbury/Scholastic.)**


	10. Chapter 10

**_Live Another Day_**

**Twiggie: I think this is the shortest chapter in the story. **

**Emmy: 'Tis only a filler.**

**Chapter 10: Just Another Day**

Emmy and Hermione made their way in the halls past the streaming students. At the door they broke, Hermione to the staff table and Emmy to the Gryffindor table. Emmy took a seat between Owen Finkes and a boy she thought was Garret Henway. Lily was situated across from them.

"'Lo, all!" she chorused.

"Someone's peppy," Lily said gloomily.

"Why the sad face?"

"Herbology. Is. The. Worst."

"And why is that?"

"Professor Longbottom."

"Excuse?"

"Professor Longbottom is so clumsy!"

Emmy waited for more.

"I had dragon dung on my head!"

Owen Finkes and Garret sniggered. Obviously, it was one huge joke to them.

"Ew."

"Girls are such prisses," Garret teased.

"True as the sky is blue," Emmy answered.

They looked at her strangely.

"That was random," Owen said, pushing his brown hair back. His fringe clouded his eyes, and he seemed to want to know if it was really Emmy. The Emmy that didn't joke around or say things in a sing-song voice like that. Emmy was...normal.

Lunch continued without the further intrusion of random sayings from Emmy. Emmy seemed a little off, giddy and odd for some reason. Emmy was normally a serious girl. Her pointed face set with an opinion.

"What's the next class?" Garret inquired. His schedule was right in front of him.

"Can you read, Garret?" Lily said.

"Why yes, I can."

"Can you find your schedule?"

"But...it ran away. Can't find it."

"Look down."

"Charms."

"Who's the teacher?"

"Professor...Professor Ninnykum."

"Ninnykum?" Owen laughed aloud.

"Definitely. Says here, 'Ninnykum'."

Emmy checked her watch. Uh-oh, she thought. She was going to be late!

"We have to go!"

They stood up quickly and ran through the great hall. At the door was Pug. She couldn't stop before she ran into him.

_BOOM!_

Emmy and Pug fell to the floor. Her books were knocked out of her hands, as were his. She was filled with a great animosity against Pug, but Emmy was polite. She didn't have that much of a reason to hate him.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Her hands flew to pick up his things. She handed them to him, and picked up her own. They were in a huge mess over the floor.

Pug sneered.

"Pick my things up!" he ordered.

"I did, genius."

"All of them?"

"Yes. All of them."

Pug had but two facial expressions: smirk and sneer.

Emmy gathered her things, and told her friends she'd catch up. She'd just have to explain to Professor Ninnykum, so she wouldn't mark her late and give her a detention. She ran up the marble staircase quickly and finally found the Charms room. She opened the door to find the oddest classroom she'd ever seen.

The class was sitting on the tables, that had red tablecloths on them. Their feet were on small cushions, and bookshelves lined the room. There were candles everywhere, and a giant chandelier!

"Welcome to charms!" called a voice above the students. A tall witch with frizzy blonde hair was walking up to her.

"So you've decided to grace us with your presence, Miss Malfoy," the woman said coldly.

"Quite correct Professor." For her funny name, this teacher was serious. And slightly mean.

"Do you have a reason for your tardiness?"

"Why yes, I do." Emmy searched the group of students for Pug. She pointed.

"Your twin brother made you late?"

Emmy stared at Professor Ninnykum with her mouth open. Pug mimicked her.

Pug said, "She's not my twin!" at the same time Emmy said, "He's not my twin!"

"He really annoys you that much that you deny being related?" the Professor asked.

"We're not related!" Pug assured her.

"Not at all," Emmy added. They were on the same side this time.

Professor Ninnykum looked confused. After all, these kids had the same surname and they looked very similar!

"Explain yourselves."

Emmy started. "I'm an orphan, you see. I didn't know my surname until the Sorting. He has a family. I didn't even know him before Hogwarts."

"Yeah. She's not my twin, or my sister. I have a family and she doesn't." Pug said the last bit with as much scorn as he could muster.

"Alright you two. Now why were you late?"

"I was running from the Great Hall because I'd thought I'd be late, and I ran into him. I picked up his books and then got here as quickly as I could."

"Have a seat, this is a warning. Do not repeat this behavior."

She opened, yet again, with a lecture. Then she asked if anyone would like to do charms. The answer was, of course, yes. A loud chorus of yes. They were each given a feather, and they said 'Wingardium Leviosa.' It was just for practice, though, because the bell rang.

Lily picked up her books and joined Emmy as they walked down the corridor to double potions.

"Not your best day. Early to class, skip a class, late to class."

"Shut up Lil."

"Just saying."

The potions Professor was Professor Mital. He had dark brown hair and tanned skin. Unlike even some of the other teachers who included a short lesson or demonstration with their lecture, he spent the entire double period lecturing them on everything from cauldrons to cat spleens in potions. He was a quiet man with what seemed like an undying devotion towards potions. He didn't take much heed of the class for the periods.

After a long day of the teachers talking, Emmy was ready for dinner and then off to the common room. She didn't have any homework, thankfully. She carried her books up to her dorm and set them on her bed. She would pack her bag for tomorrow, so she wouldn't be late. She picked up The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1 and put it in her bag, followed by some Transfiguraton notes. There was an envelope in these notes that she was sure wasn't hers. It was addressed "Father."

Oh, Emmy thought, it must be Pug's!

Emmy was interested in what he would write to "Father." Not normally nosey, but this was a matter of her relation to Pug. She slid her finger under the seal and slit it open.

_Dear Father, _

My old owl never failed to find you, but it became the object of target practice for your cousin, Winona Lestrange. She stole him. I hope this new eagle owl will find you soon enough. Mother said you had one when you were here at Hogwarts. To add to that, I was Sorted into Slytherin of course. The classes are very boring, and none of them deal with the Dark Arts. Only Defense Against the Dark Arts, and that is taught by goody-goody Potter. He won't show us any Unforgivable Curses like you did, I'm sure. I'm sorry that you had to leave the Manor so soon over the summer. But the Dark Lord needed you. The Aurors searched the Manor again, but of course they have nothing to find. At least, nothing that they can see. Mother and I miss you, Father. Will you come home over the winter holidays so you can celebrate Christmas and my birthday with Mother and I? Of course, you are busy. Never mind, Father.

I am doing well here at Hogwarts. But I have a problem. There is a girl named Emmaline. Emmaline Malfoy. She has big blue eyes and blonde hair and a pale face. She lloks very much like me. We're not related though. I mean, I would know if we were twins. But we couldn't be. She's a Gryffindor. Do you know about her? Maybe she's a long lost cousin of mine. I mean, we have a lot of pureblood relatives. It doesn't really matter though.

Your Son,  
Dameon

Whoa.

Emmy hadn't been expecting this. But it made sense. Pug's father was...Draco Malfoy, as was hers. She wanted a response. She couldn't just give it back to Pug and say, "Oh, by the way, I want to know too, about me, so could you ask Dad? And I read your letter. Your dad's a Death Eater! Super!"

She would send the letter herself. She skipped to the Owlery and found Pug's eagle owl. She didn't know how to get him over to her. She whistled, even though that was for dogs. Surprisingly though, he came.

"Hello, owl." She brushed his feathers and tied the letter to his leg.

"Bring the reply to Dameon Malfoy, and be quick please!"

The owl soared off into the night sky.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Live Another Day_**

**Twiggie: Ok, this skips to October. I need to keep this story up. The last two chapters took place over a course of one day. I pasted this on to Word—46 pages!**

**Garret: Twiggie doesn't own Harry. She does, however, own a computer.**

**Chapter Eleven: Welcome to My Life **

Weeks had passed; it was now October, and still Draco's response had not come. Emmy expected it to be somewhat later than usual, as Draco was apparently on some secret Dark mission. She waited and waited for that eagle owl to come to Dameon, often missing bits and pieces of what her friends were saying. She watched like a hawk.

Still, the owl was no where to be seen. Dameon never confronted her about it, which was odd. Her newfound enemy would have probably been first to pin it on her. Emmy guessed that Dameon forgot he lost it, or mailed it and didn't really think about it. Whatever the reason, the owl still wasn't back.

Emmy had other things to think about. Magic wasn't so easy, and waving a wand wouldn't cut it. She was a hard studier, and a very good student. Magic came easily to her, especially since she hadn't ever been introduced to it. She liked all of her classes, but seemed to have the hardest time in History of Magic. She had loved History growing up in her Muggle school, but she hadn't had Professor Binns then.

Professor Binns was a ghost. That was very strange the first time she had seen one, on her second day of school. A ghost in a ruff called Sir Nicolas de Mimsy Porpington had introduced himself to her. When he reached out to shake his hand, she felt an icy shower of ghost. The phenomenon was strange.

History of magic had everyone snoring—either as a figure of speech (in Emmy's case) or literally sleeping (in Garret's case). Professor Binns droned on and on like a vacuum. Emmy had no idea what the class was about.

Transfiguration was by far the hardest class in everyone's opinions besides Emmy's. She loved Transfiguration! Hermione was her favorite teacher; she really seemed to know everything! In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry knew even more. He had defeated the Darkest wizard of the time, after all. Emmy had read all about it.

The strangest teacher, in her opinion, was Professor Longbottom. He taught Herbology. Nothing about him was actually strange to anyone else, but Emmy felt his eyes on her. Like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. One day, about two weeks away from Halloween, he approached her.

"Um, hello Miss...Emmaline?" Professor Longbottom asked.

"Oh! Hi Professor!"

"What is your last name? I forgot." He smiled awkwardly.

"Malfoy. Emmy Malfoy."

"I'm always forgetting things, silly me!"

"Anything else Professor?"

"Just a little more, Miss Malfoy. I know your last name is Malfoy...but you look an awful lot like someone I used to know."

Emmy simply looked at him.

"Sorry Professor, but that isn't helpful. I don't think I've known you from anywhere else..."

This wasn't entirely true. The first time she had seen the professor, she felt like she knew him before.

"Well, when I was here at Hogwarts, I knew a girl named Luna Lovegood. You bear an uncanny resemblance to her."

"That would be normal, I suppose," Emmy said. "Because a girl named Luna Lovegood was my mother."

Professor Longbottom felt faint.

"Everyone here seems to know her. Hermio—Professor Granger, and Professor Potter. Do you know them too?"

"I went to school with all of them."

"What was she like?"

"Who—oh, Luna. Odd. They called her Loony Lovegood. Loony, Loopy Luna Lovegood. But she was very nice...behind all of the weirdness. She always gave you some handy tips and hints. Luna was a personal philosopher."

"So you were friends?"

"You could say that, I assume."

"Thanks Professor."

Neville was left still feeling faint. How could he not have realized it?

center LAD /center

Lily grabbed Emmy's wrist and led her to the Gryffindor Notice Board.

"Look," Lily ordered.

center HALLOWEEN COSTUME BALL

ALL STUDENTS INVITED—YEARS 1 TO 7

COSTUME CONTEST WITH PRIZES!

31 OCTOBER /center

"Alright, so what?"

"So it'll be fun!"

"What?"

"The ball!"

"I'm sitting this one out, Lil. I don't dance."

"Learn fast then, Halloween is a week away!"

"I don't have a costume," Emmy said bluntly.

"Hell i o /i ! That's why I'm here!"

"You're crazy, Lily Potter!"

Lily and Emmy sat in the Girl's Dormitory, deciding on their costumes. Lily wrote home to Ginny to tell her.

i Mum!

We're having a costume ball! Any ideas for what to wear?

XOXO,

Lil /i

Ginny's reply came later that day, as she was in the castle visiting Harry.

"Hello, Lily. Emmy," Ginny said.

"Hi," and "Hi, Mum!" chorused the two.

The girls looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, right, the costumes! Well, I was looking through a Muggle Halloween magazine, and I found the cutest costume! You two could go as witches!"

Ginny's over-peppy enthusiasm was scaring Lily.

"Mum..."

"I'm kidding, Lily."

"You could go as a fairy...a ghost...a pirate?" Ginny suggested.

"Ooh! I'll go as a pirate!" Emmy cheered.

"Whatever. I'll go as a fairy," Lily sounded like she didn't care very much.

"Can you make your own?" inquired Ginny.

"Duh," Lily said simply.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Live Another Day_**

**Garret: This is over 3000 words long! Happy reading!**

**Twiggie: Those chapters came out in fast succession, but now you'll have to wait as long or longer than my GP readers. **

**Chapter Twelve: All Hallows Eve**

There is a Destined Tragedy reference that belongs to Katrina Young, I'm borrowing. If you can pick out the reference, points for you! It's something that Sirius would do.

I'm working on a prequel, which isn't going to be as long and will hopefully answer any questions you might have. Prequel to be called 'Another Day,' tying in with this title. Basically it will be a Frozen Radishes, or Draco/Luna, fanfic. It is a different turn of events, because everyone is wrong in their assumptions about Draco. I started to like him after Half-Blood Prince, because he could kill Dumbledore. He didn't really want to kill him. So I found some respect and gave it to him. It'd be swell if you have a questions you want answered, to PM them over to me. Or include them in the reviews. Thanks!

I wrote this chapter four times in two days. It is really annoying, because I kept changing the descriptions of everything, and the classes. Bugger it all!

Also, I'm working on a book-ish thing, so I'm putting time into that as well. Sorry for the lack of updatey-ness.

TWIGGIE

Lily bounced on to Emmy's bed and shook her awake. She groggily opened her eyes and pushed Lily away. Never had Emmy been able to wake up quickly. She pulled the scarlet covers over her face, so that they just came below her eyes. Emmy didn't want to wake up. Tonight was the Halloween Ball; she didn't dance, and she didn't want to be a pirate either. Later that night, she would have far more important things to think about.

Finally, Emmy groaned and rolled out of bed and onto the floor. With a _thump_, she landed on Lily's feet.

"Alrighty then. Today's the Halloween Ball and we get to wear our costumes all day today, so get a move on. We have a grand total of," Lily checked her watch. "11 minutes and forty-two seconds to get to Transfiguration." Lily sifted under Emmy's bed for her pirate costume. Emmy had a knack for costumes, it seemed. The pirate girl costume was perfect for Emmy. She wore a white blouse with ripped sleeves and a ripped bottom, and over it was a red vest with a skull and crossbones on the chest. Her black pants were striped and also ripped like her shirt. She had wrapped a black scarf over her blonde hair and held a sword in her hand. All of this was made by Emmy herself.

Continuing her costume craze, she had also made Lily's fairy costume. When Lily had first seen it, she bent over laughing.

"What is _that_!" she exclaimed through laughs.

"A fairy costume...?"

"That's a fairy?" Lily was still in a fit of giggles. Then she realized that Emmy only knew what Muggle fairies looked like. "Oh, it's a Muggle fairy. Real fairies are so ugly."

From behind Lily, Garret piped up. "Then why would Em make you a fairy costume, Lily? You're ugly enough as it is."

"Ha. Ha. Very funny Garret," Lily said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lily's costume was spectacular, it was green to match her eyes and went nicely with her hair. She had wings, and Emmy had enchanted sparkles to follow her around and shimmer. The costume was actually a dress, and not really made to look like a fairy, more like a fairy girl. It was long and made of a soft velvet which Lily adored. A sixth year named Enna had helped with her make-up, which was softly beautiful on her face. Lily was looking very grown up.

After placing her sword in her belt, Emmy grabbed her bag and ran after Lily to Transfiguration. According to Lily's watch, they had a total of fourteen seconds to spare. Both skidded into the classroom out of breath sometime around seven seconds later. The enchanted sparkles breathed heavily as they too stopped after Lily. They both fell into their seats and listened to Hermione's lesson about changing pumpkins to candy.

They were allowed to eat the candy for the rest of the day, and they carried it around in a trick-or-treat bag that Hermione had given them. Lily's looked like scrumptious candy, but ended up tasting more or less like pumpkin pie. Emmy, the "professor's pet," as Garret called her, had Transfigured her pumpkin into mounds of spectacular tasting candy. However, Garret shut up when he was allowed to eat some. In Herbology, Professor Longbottom also used pumpkins and let the students carve faces into them. Classes were to end one half-hour early, so Emmy would miss half of History of Magic. That was completely fine by her. As for now, she grabbed some candy corn of the Gryffindor table on her way down to Potions.

The dungeons were always dreary, and Professor Mital talked with his head down and a soft voice, so no one could hear him. He was so into Potions as well as everything about Potions. If you asked him, he would talk for days upon days and never finish. They were brewing some sort of Halloween Potion to fend off unwanted Trick-or-Treaters. He just wanted to be on his own. All of the students thought that he was weird, Emmy included. Or maybe it was that he wasn't aware. Whatever it happened to be, Potions wasn't an enjoyable subject.

If Potions was bad, History of Magic was so much worse. Professor Binns delved into the history of Halloween, which should have been an interesting subject. It really wasn't when he was teaching, and Emmy thought that she would have enjoyed learning about this more if he wasn't their teacher. Today was a good day though, as the class ended a half-hour early. None of the Professors had given them homework. When the bell rang early, Emmy was just glad to get out of the old classroom and take her stupid pirate bandana off.

Finally, she unraveled the bandana and swiftly started walking up to her dorm to get some sleep before the Ball. She glanced over her shoulder at Lily, who was talking to Professor Binns about something or another. Lily shot her a stern look which clearly meant, There will be trouble if you don't wait! Emmy, however, did not heed her glare and continued to walk back to the Gryffindor Tower with Owen Finkes and Garret.

Thirty seconds later, there was a clatter of something glass being knocked over by Lily's wing, and the sound of Lily's feet as she ran away from Filch. Then they heard Filch's gimpy trot and through the corridor, they saw Mrs. Norris' glowing eyes. Tripping over his random costume of a monk, Owen Finkes darted down the hall towards the Fat Lady's portrait. Garret began to run after him, but he tripped over Emmy and both of them skidded in the direction of the Tower. Filch was a bit slow in his old age, so Mrs. Norris ran on her cat paws ever so silently and hissed at them. With a loud hissing noise, Emmy scared her away.

"GET BACK HERE!" Filch bellowed. "I'LL GET YOU, LIKE IT OR NOT!"

Filch was gaining on Lily, and she tried to run but couldn't with her costume. Lily hid behind a small table with pottery on it, and when Filch galloped past, she stuck her leg out and tripped him. Sprawled on the floor, Filch flailed his arms around like a dying fish. Mrs. Norris jumped over to him to make sure that he was alright. While they were busy, the foursome slipped past them and muttered "jack-o-lantern" to the Fat Lady. After she let them in, Emmy felt too awake to slumber as she had wanted to before.

The Ball was to start at six, and it was only five now. Out of breath from running so hard, Lily flopped into an armchair. Later, they would go down to the Great Hall and feast; something Emmy was ready for. Garret was becoming bored, and therefore poking Lily in the sides. All of this was angering Lily, and she glared Garret down. He flipped the hair out of his eyes and tried to stare her down. But alas, Lily's glare was very much like her mother's, and she easily made him stop. Emmy, on the other hand, did not have the same malicious eyes as her father, so she and Garret spent a half hour flicking eachother's heads until Lily couldn't stand it anymore, and shouted for them to get ready for the Ball.

All Emmy had to do was put that blasted scarf back around her head. Enna helped Lily touch up her make-up, and then Emmy made sure the charm of the sparkles would last. Garret had hastily thrown on Quidditch robes from the Ballycastle Bats that he had bought at a game in June. While Emmy was fixing the length of his robes, Cassy Finkes, Owen's sister, charmed his head to be bald on top with a ring of mousy hair around. "Friar Finkes," Lily chuckled.

At five to six, they walked down to the Great Hall in all of it's splendor. Set for Halloween, there were decorations everywhere. The floor had been transfigured into spooky black tiling. From the floor jutted creepy skeletons from fake dungeons. They were particularly convincing. Instead of four house tables, there were smaller tables with deep midnight colored tablecloths with silver stars and jet black candles with silvery cobweb wax adornment around them. The light they gave was shimmering and blue. Emmy had thought of a Muggle Halloween party when she imagined the Halloween Ball. Wizarding Halloweens weren't like Muggle ones; phony skeletons and plastic jack-o-lanterns filled with candy. They were more serious, with hundreds of live bats and gigantic jack-o-lanterns that three men could sit in comfortably.

Emmy was doing well to blend in with the gloomy atmosphere in her pirate costume. The fairy costume Lily was wearing seemed to have an iridescent glow to it. The Fat Friar spotted Owen Finkes and was chuckling at his costume. Hanging with his popular friends, Garret fit in well with his Quidditch robes; everyone else was wearing them too. Only Garret's friend Bradon had broken the mold, wearing his own normal robes and a nametag that read "God." Emmy thought him to be conceited, just like the Slytherins. Some of the Slytherins were coming in now, the first years led by Pug. Pug was dressed as a Quidditch player as well. One of his friends with a ratty face had made himself a vampire.

Although the first years didn't have dates to the Ball, Pug's arm was held by an ugly girl with sleek black hair. Her eyes were too far apart, and she overdosed on make-up. Also, she wore way to much perfume for an eleven-year old girl, even for a twenty-year old girl. Her name was Claire, and she was the role model Slytherin. The music blared in the background, a wizard band called Magic Hat. Lily took Emmy's reluctant hand and led her out to the dance floor. Owen Finkes was doing some kind of jerky dance with robotic stiffness that made Emmy assume Owen couldn't dance. Lily, however, was smooth. Trying her best, Emmy flowed with the music. She was actually having a good time! Sir Nicolas put his icy hand in hers and they danced ballroom style to modern music, both of them having a good time.

Next, Emmy danced with Lily, and then they were both ready to get some punch. They moved over to the punch table and put their cups under the magical ladles that were scooping fruit punch. Chatting about the costume contest later, they hadn't a care in the world. Headmistress McGonagall cleared her throat from the front of the Hall. Emmy and Lily scurried over to the table they had sat at before. Candy corn was in bowls on the table, as well as some other food. They would get dinner a little later on. Just before McGonagall started to talk, Owen Finkes and Garret joined them.

"Good evening students," she began formally. "And happy Halloween to you all! Thank you for coming to our Halloween Ball and dressing up for the occasion. The costume contest will begin directly after dinner. Let me explain the contest for a moment, and then you can eat." She took a breath and started again. "You will come up to this platform in front of the Head Table when your table is dismissed, then walk in front of the judges. They will select a winner from all of the students judged, and you do not have to come up. That is all. After you're judged, you may dance."

Food instantly appeared on the table, and Emmy dug in. She hadn't had much besides candy corn for most of the day. From the delicious pile of food on the table, she picked chicken and some potatoes. All of the food was simply lovely. Their table was dismissed to be judged, so they walked up to the platform and modeled their costumes. Hermione motioned for Emmy to step up, and from behind her, she heard some people booing. There was no doubt who it was, so Emmy didn't even look behind her. She really didn't care.

They joined the dance floor again, and the Hogwarts Toad Choir was singing a song even Emmy recognized, called 'Double Trouble.' Bradon mimicked the Choir, opening his mouth and vibrating like a fish. Emmy swore he should have been in Slytherin, the stuck up little idiot. Garret, as rude as he sometimes was, thought that this was just a little over the top, with the Choir right there. Bradon really was a prat.

When the judging had concluded, Hermione asked everyone to be quiet, and all of the students settled down. Harry whispered the choices in her ear, and she stood up and announced the winners.

"Just to note, all of the winners will receive a 5 Galleon gift certificate to Honeydukes." A few students whooped and cheered. "So, out of the entire student population, a first year won the prize. Lily Potter, can you please come up?"

Emmy, Garret and Owen Finkes clapped and yelled along with everyone but the Slytherins. Lily got up from her chair and made her way across the Hall. Harry smiled at her and gave Emmy a thumbs up from the Table. Emmy wasn't surprised that Lily had won the contest, she looked lovely as a fairy. All smiles, Lily took her prize and started across the platform.

A loud _CRACK!_ sounded, and a man in Death Eater's robes grabbed Lily and held his wand to her neck.

"Don't move, Potter," he hissed. "Or your daughter will die like your parents."

Instantly, Harry had recognized the voice of the Death Eater. Apparently, so did Pug. From his drowsy state, he perked up at the sign of the voice. Hermione had also started.

"I didn't know _you_ taught here Mudblood," he sneered.

Hermione stared at him unscathed. "I didn't know you had come out of a cowardly hole."

The Death Eater stepped back. "You watch your step too, Granger. And..._Longbottom?_ You finished school, even?"

"Yes, Dr--"

The Death Eater cut him off. "Oh, introducing me, are you?" He jerked Lily's head back. She looked nervous. The Death Eater's eyes scanned the crowd, or so it seemed with his mask still on. "Alright Longbottom, tell them who I am."

Professor Longbottom stuttered and kept his mouth shut.

"Longbottom can't even tell you, years later? Alright kiddies, I'm Draco Malfoy. Death Eater. On behalf of the Dark Lord, we," he paused, and out of no where a dozen other black cloaked people appeared, "Are here to finish off Potty dearest. And maybe some ickle kiddies too?" he inquired of his Death Eater allies.

They grunted and nodded in reply. Malfoy took his hood off, to reveal a tired, yet pale and thin face. Emmy's eyes searched for his to meet hers. And they did. He must have recognized her, even years later. Their gazed remained unbroken for what seemed like hours, and yet Emmy couldn't sense any particular feeling he was trying to show her. He then looked at Pug, and that glance showed but one emotion: loathing. That surprised Emmy greatly. Even she could tell that he hated his son. Then, in the blink of an eye, the first curse was uttered out of a big Death Eater, and a stunning spell ricocheted off a table. Lily had long since left Malfoy's grip, and was now under the Head Table. Hermione, Harry, McGonagall, and Professor Longbottom were the first to get up, and all of the other teachers soon came to their aide. Many seventh and sixth years were also fighting against the Death Eaters. Emmy took Garret's hand and ran toward the Table; Owen Finkes had been grabbed by his sister and taken up there already.

The Head Table had become a safe haven, and the professors had put as many protection spells as possible over it so that the students would be safe there. Emmy watched with Garret, Owen and Lily as several Death Eaters went down. Then a fifth year girl from Hufflepuff named Francis Pawel was hit by a stunning spell. More fell to the ground every second, but Emmy hadn't seen a Killing Curse or any other Unforgivable Curse fired out of a wand. Harry and Draco battled it out farther on, and Draco knew that he was losing, and that his posse of Death Eaters were losing as well. He called for retreat, and set fire to some tables before he left.

Emmy was breathing heavily, and Lily was still holding her breath.

"That," Emmy stated, "Was my father."

**A/N: Bwahaha, weren't expecting that, were you!**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Live Another Day**_

**Rosy: This is the SNAZZY chapter filled with awesome plot twists and foreshadowing! **

**Ron: Wicked! **

**Twiggie: Read 'n' Review!**

**Twiggie Again: And if you can spot a slight, (REALLY SLIGHT!) watered down Avatar: the Last Airbender reference, you get VIRTUAL BONUS POINTS! And Voldemort has not been vanquished yet.**

**:theme music plays:**

**Chapter Thirteen: The Crumple Horned Snorkack**

The final curses were sent flying out of wands before Malfoy left. Madame Tophee, the nurse, ran frantically around the Great Hall. She cared for the injured students, and thankfully, not many had been injured in the skirmish. Out of roughly a dozen Death Eaters, five had been found unconscious. No one had been killed; no one had been killed on the Hogwarts' grounds for almost fifteen years. Along with Madame Tophee, the professors raced to the children, harmed and unharmed. Professor Longbottom shook visibly, and Hermione told him to sit down. She then cleaned up the splintered tables and repaired them. In about two hours the room had been mostly cleaned up. Most of the students were asleep under the tables.

The Headmistress called for attention, and Emmy poked Garret's sleeping form in the back. Lily and Owen Finkes were already awake. It was sometime around two o' clock in the morning. Lily's spectacular costume was ripped in two places, and she had cut herself on a piece of wood. Other than that, the foursome was relatively fine. All of them were shaken up, who wouldn't be after that? Confusion flew through Emmy's mind. Everything had happened so fast for her. For the very first time, she had seen her father for real. He looked more tired than he had in the memories. With her head spinning, she only vaguely heard Headmistress McGonagall telling them that they would sleep in the Great Hall. Her last thoughts before drifting off to a fitful sleep was i this sleeping bad in comfy... /i She then fell into her own little dream world.

LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD LAD

Several days, several letters sent home to parents, and several complaints later, Headmistress McGonagall found her office flooded with complaints and questions from concerned parents. She had assured all of them that Hogwarts was the safest place for the children to be in these troubled times. Often times she went to Dumbledore's portrait to figure out exactly what to say to the frightened parents. Unsurprisingly, Mrs. Bush had been told, but she seemed unconcerned about Emmy's safety. Other parents sent Howlers, some wrote very angry letters. _("Our little Sara could've been killed!" "Why aren't there enough defensive charms on the castle?")_ McGonagall was up to her square glasses in letters. But all of the parents should be told of the ordeal, so she continued to tell them.

She sunk into her chair and saw that Dumbledore had left his portrait. It wasn't uncommon for him to leave, and McGonagall wasn't worried about him. He might just be alerting another parent about their child. This was a normal thing for Dumbledore as of late, and that was exactly where he was going.

Dumbledore appeared in different frames before finally sticking in one in Sweden. He looked at the room around him, used to it from frequent visits. Dumbledore was a bit of an eccentric, so the oddness of this room didn't strike him as blaringly as it would for most people. The room was splatter painted in several different colors. A lion hat was set haphazardly on a shelf. Several magazine clippings showing rough illustrations and strange titles like "Giant Man-Pumpkins Terrorize Muggles in Wales!" and "Try Your Hand at Cryptic Were-Rabbit Reading." A jewelry box with one radish earring on top was also in view.

A woman came in with a basket of laundry on her hip. She had scraggly, dirty blonde hair that fell naturally at her waist. Her eyes were protuberant and blue-ish. She had several beaded necklaces on, and bright orange sandals with mismatched socks underneath. Setting the laundry basket down on her bed, she revealed a Weird Sisters Tour 1995 shirt and a flowing Bohemian skirt. With one hand on the laundry, she reached for a plant on her bedside table and watered it. She seemed blissfully unaware that an occupant had just arrived in one of her picture frames.

"Good day to you," Dumbledore's old, quiet voice rang through the room.

"Oh, hello," she called dreamily, eyes never leaving the magazine she was now reading. "Is anything new, Professor?"

"Why yes, Luna. It has been almost six months since I have seen you last."

She nodded and cocked her head curiously. "..But satisfaction brought him back," she whispered.

"There has been an attack on Hogwarts. We are learning all we can about how they broke the wards."

"Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure."

"But I have some excellent news. We have spotted some things that might be of interest for you." She waited for him to continue. "Your...husband...led the attack on Hogwarts, but he is still alive." Luna breathed a sigh of relief. No news of Draco had come in years. "And one more thing. Your daughter was made a Gryffindor."

Luna stared back at the old man's portrait with a surprised expression dawning on her face. "Daughter?" she stuttered. "Emmaline is alive?"

"Very alive. She has made friends with the Potter girl and Hannah Abbot's son Garret, along with a boy named Owen Finkes. She's doing very well in her studies."

Luna still looked at him, stunned. "What...what is she like?"

"She is called Emmy. Her eyes are a stunning mix of blue and grey. She has blonde hair and a loathing for Dameon. He taunts her, and I fear her father's temper will take over. Sometimes he is a, how shall I say this, a little slow, like _his_ father. Emmy holds her father's temper, your knowledge as well as your ability to think outside of the box. She really is a lovely girl, Luna."

Luna sighed. She hadn't seen her own daughter grow up. She thought that Emmy had died when she was attacked. But as Dumbledore explained a while later, Draco had taken her to an orphanage in London where she was picked up by Hermione. Luna desperately wanted to see her or send her a letter. If Emmy had survived and Lucius found out_...No, she just wouldn't think about that._ Dumbledore quickly stopped her notions. It was too risky for Luna, who had been in hiding for ten years, to suddenly burst into the open. She was safer having been assumed dead.

Luna had always been a mystery, but she held some very powerful secrets. That was why she was in Sweden, among the Snorkacks. She had planned to tell the world of her findings, but it was soon apparent that she could not. If Voldemort had found out about this, she would be doomed and possibly tortured by him. But she hadn't told a soul besides Draco. She couldn't have possibly kept this big of a secret from him.

Originally, she had thought that he had told the Dark Lord when she was attacked. But that was not so. What she had found was that the Snorkacks spun webs like spiders, and in them was a powerful defensive element. It warded off potent Dark charms like "Imperio" and "Crucio." Then Luna had done a bit of experimenting. She worked on the potion her mother had been trying when she died. Finally, she made a powerful restoritive and fused it with the webs of the Snorkacks. Luna suctioned it with a charm so it was ready to use with the flick of her wand. She tested it.

Along with defending against Crucio and Imperio, it warded off the most powerful curse of all time.

_Avada Kedavra_. The Killing Curse. She had found a defense to the Killing Curse.

**Twiggie: Lyke OMG!**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Live Another Day**_

**Emmy: So you all aren't confused, this chapter (and perhaps the next one), is a MEMORY! So if you guys don't read the Author's Notes, to bad for you, 'cos, you'll be REALLY confused. And possibly attempting to read the chapter upside-down. **

**Twiggie: And yes, this chapter has the same title that the prequel will use. If there is a prequel. If I keep doing these flash-back-y chapters, then I won't be doing that. **

_**I REPEAT: THIS IS A FLASHBACK! OF LUNA'S! **_

**Chapter 15: Another Day: A Secret for a Secret**

Luna sat next to Ginny on her worn sofa. Ginny and Luna had finished their shift as waitresses at the Leaky Cauldron. The day had been nothing less than hectic. An old man had had an allergic reaction to Tom's special stew of the day. The wizened old barman himself had taken the man to St. Mungo's, leaving the girls in charge for a few minutes. ("Up to you now, gotta run! Don't let anyone leave without paying, now." He chuckled good-heartedly and left.) Ginny really thought that her own mum should cook a dish, but she was pretty busy now. Percy had been welcomed back with open arms, and now she had several screaming grandchildren from Bill and Charlie's wives.

Along with that, Molly Weasley was now the Minister of Magic's wife. Arthur Weasley had been made Minister of Magic last year, just as Ginny had graduated from Hogwarts. He was a far better Minister than Scrimegour and Fudge ever were, and he used Dumbledore's (in portrait form) to give him advice. All of the Weasleys ran hectic and busy lives, Bill working in Gringotts with his wife, Fleur; Charlie still in Romania caring for dragons. His wife was a good woman and she followed him to Romania. Her name was Kasey, and they had two children; Quinn and Stewart. Bill and Fleur also had children; three of them, with another on the way. Their names were Adrienne, Caprice, and Marc.

Percy still worked at the Ministry, busy as ever, and was engaged to Penelope Clearwater. Percy was as rigid as always, but "Penny", as she was called, loved the family dearly. Fred and George were kept busy with the shop. Ron, of course, was still working on finding the last Horcruxes. He was with Harry and Hermione in some remote location, on some dangerous quest. So what's new?

Luna had bought a flat in London a month ago, and it already had that "Luna feel." Luna really kept everything loyal to herself, with Ravenclaw colors in one room, and stripes in her bedroom of different colors. She tacked cut-outs from the _Quibbler_ on the wall, and still had that stupid lion hat from Hogwarts. She and Ginny were constantly adding knick-knacks to Luna's already vast collection. (A jaguar shaped bar of soap, a lighthouse mobile, a scented sand dollar, a _The Quibbler _wall hanging, among other things.)

To earn a few extra Galleons, Luna and Ginny both helped Mr. Lovegood with the _Quibbler_. Ginny was utterly baffled about what sort of people read _The Quibbler_. The strangest articles appeared there, from "Taming Your Snorkack" to "Goblins Use Toothpaste for Entire Gringotts Vault." How these articles were helpful to anyone was beyond Ginny, but Luna and Mr. Lovegood seemed to understand. They were particularly interested in strange mystical animals, both Mr. Lovegood and Luna had written articles on various beasts. ("The Elusive Snorkack", "Umbledumbledees Wild in Tanzania", and "Jamaican Wifflemoles Chew Through Igloos.") It was all a great joke to Ginny, and even more so to Hermione, who Ginny told about their doings in England.

Ginny hadn't seen the three since Christmas, and that was seven months ago. She had thought about smuggling herself away with them, but she knew that they would send her straight back to the Burrow. Ginny missed them all dearly, and hoped that when they returned, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would be gone for good. She had it all planned out: she would marry Harry the _moment _he returned (they were already engaged), she would have twelve children and live in a huge house. They would, of course, be perfectly happy forever and ever. It was the same dream Ginny had had since she was ten.

Interrupting Luna's usual dreamy look, Ginny made an attempt at conversation. "So Luna, what do you think you'll do after the war?"

Luna's large eyes snapped on her. She paused before answering. "I don't know…perhaps I'll marry. I'm almost nineteen, anyway."

Smirking, Ginny asked, "Anyone in mind?"

Mumbling some strange saying, all Ginny caught of Luna's sudden philosophy was, "…Killed the cat." For one of the first times Ginny had ever seen, Luna blushed like any other girl.

"So there _is _someone," Ginny goaded.

Luna ignored her, turning her face ceiling-ward.

Ginny crossed her arms and pouted. She was acting like a little girl at a slumber party; begging to know her friend's crush.

"C'mon, Luna. You can tell me. A secret for a secret? You tell me who you want to marry and I'll tell you something."

Luna still looked upward dreamily. She slowly brought her head down and nodded. "You first," Luna said.

"No…" Luna nodded, egging her on.

"Okay," Ginny finally said. "Uh, well you know how Harry and I…er…made up in sixth year? And how we were dating?" Luna nodded.

"Can you keep a secret?" Ginny suddenly demanded.

"Sí señorita," Luna agreed.

"Well, no one knows about this. Harry and I are engaged. I know, I know. I'm only eighteen and he's nineteen, but…I think I'm ready."

Luna smiled. She had seen that coming.

"Okay," Ginny sighed, clearly relieved. "Now it's your turn. Who do you plan on tying the knot with?"

Luna had hoped that Ginny wouldn't be brave enough to tell her. That way, Luna wouldn't have had to admit anything. But Ginny was a proud and true Gryffindor.

Luna took a serious tone. "If you tell _anyone _about this, I'll curse you into oblivion. Really, I will." Luna was crazy enough to do that, so Ginny believed her.

"Alright."

"You're engaged to Harry, and Imkinaengagtdrac."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll make you guess then. I'm engaged as well, I'll tell you that much. To Harry's archnemisis."

"_WHAT!_" Ginny jumped out of her seat. "YOU'RE ENGAGED TO…TO YOU-KNOW-WHO?"

"Uh, no."

"Oh, good."

"I don't think that you'll like the actual person very much either."

"Come on, Luna. It can't be any worse than _that_."

"Think of an archnemisis a little closer to our age."

Ginny was still scoffing. "I mean, the only other person that could be called an archnemisis that is close to our age is Malfoy. Come on, Luna. Can't be that bad!"

_Bingo! _Luna thought.

"Right on it," she muttered. Luna was usually very open. Strange and cryptic, but open.

"Wait, right on it? I _guessed _it?"

_Wow, Ginny really needs to pick her jaw up off the floor. It'll get dirty that way._

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, I GUESSED IT! YOU'RE ENGAGED TO _DRACO MALFOY_! THE FERRET SLYTHERIN WITH SLICK, PLATINUM BLONDE HAIR? _THAT _DRACO MALFOY?"

Luna nodded meekly.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" Taking a deep breath, Ginny calmed down. "Why?"

"I…I just. You don't really know him. He stays in his little shell, cold and cruel. But if you really get to know him, then he's really a great person. He's a Slytherin, full of ambition and cunning. There have been rumors that Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin were to be married. He's very nice, you know."

_This doesn't make sense…Draco must have done something…tampered a potion…but then he'd have to have wanted her in the first place…This doesn't make any sense…but since when has Luna Lovegood ever made sense?_

"I'm seriously lost," Ginny explained.

"Anyone would be. It's…hard to fathom. The absolute nutcase and the Slytherin Prince, it doesn't make sense. How will I explain this to everyone else?"

Ginny was beginning to understand. Whatever Luna picked, Ginny would get along with. Luna was Ginny's closest friend behind Hermione, but Hermione wasn't here to tell right now. The dreamy look in Luna's eyes differed from the one moments before.

"You could start by explaining it to me," she said gently.

"Yes. That's a good place to start. I'll practice on you, then announce it to everyone else."

_Luna doesn't see what I see. She's in danger. Obviously Malfoy likes her, whatever the reason. But he has a Death Eater father and a Dark family. She could be in grave danger. They wouldn't want a quirky Ravenclaw that was loyal to Dumbledore to be their daughter-in-law. Luna isn't safe. Will Draco attempt to keep her safe?_

"I think I'll get my Pensieve," Luna told Ginny. She walked out of the room, leaving Ginny pondering.

"I'll show you from the very beginning," Luna assured.

Ginny nodded.

_This had better be good._

**Twiggie: The first in my series of flash-back-y chapters. More to come. You won't be seeing the regular crew for a little while. **

**And this chapter had a lot of Ginny in it. I love Ginny. Harry isn't deserving of her. But the story is about Luna, Emmy and Draco, so the next chapter will be FROZEN RADISHES! AWESOMENESS!**

**And this means Ginny knows something. So why didn't she tell?**

**Lotsa love,**

**Twiggie**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: Another Day: What Walls We Build

**FOR YA'LL PEOPLE, MOST OF THIS SHAN'T MAKE SENSE! BUT I'M NOT EDITING IT FOR YOUR WELL-BEING. READ ALONG IF YOU WOULD LIKE, AND THERE'S A COPY-PASTE-SEE THE FUN AVATARS AND BANNER PART, TOO! **

**If you're not going to read the immense Author's Note and just click on the fun links, here's a quick overview of the topics covered:**

**Why LAD disappeared**

**Why LAD hasn't been updated**

**Twiggie mumbles about the really original LAD, or LVR, as it was called then**

**Fun Avatars and LAD banners with characters**

**Pimps lightningboltgirl and Little Lily for their awesomeness**

**One Really Long Author's Note:** Did anyone notice—er, not notice—Live Another Day on the list of stories?

Okay, I'm an idiot. Thank you, for those who thought 'no, you're not.' I wanted to add a chapter, and ended up getting a whole series of "are you sure?" questions. Not thinking, I was like, okay, okay.

Idiotically, that was actually the Delete Story button. Yeah. Talk about stupid. Whoops-a-daisy! No big deal, I have it in three other places. So we cool? That is why, if you clicked, there aren't the proper amount of chapters, until this one. So this is chapter fifteen, and I'm back. If you find any minor alterations in the Author's Notes or whatever, that's because I'm copying off of where the most updated story it. On Word 'tis really choppy and all HTML'd. The story is the same; most chapters have nothing different besides spelling and grammar changes. However, there is an extra paragraph in Chapter One, which heads us off. If this is your first time reading Live Another Day, well you may be very confused. So this is mostly for those of you that actually like this story and read it. Yay for you! I have people that read and review my story! Sorry if that caused any problems.

I haven't been updating in over a month, which I'm very sorry for. First came the normal procrastination, which you may be used to. Then I wrote the fifteenth chapter, hated it, and put it in a neat little pile in the Recycle bin. Actually the first chapter is actually on paper. Repeat this process 14 times. After that I finally admitted to writer's block, the first one I've ever really had. And let me tell you, it's no fun. I ended up writing, and when I did, only a sentence. It was so annoying...curses... Then I was enlightened with a bright idea to change chapter fifteen, and thus it began again. Then I considered editing it for length, but then went "heck with it," and wrote the longest chapter I've ever written. This chapter is for all of you Frozen Radishes fans. Let me hear you...nope, didn't think so. I'm one of the VERY few Frozen Radishes people there are existing.

I made a fan-freaking-tastic banner on Siriusly, I love it! (That is because I _made _it, so naturally 'tis the best thing EVER!) It's nothing special, though. Although I did find a girl that was how I pictured Emmy. 'Tis also my avatar for the forums. Or the links for the avatars are:

**WAIT, GO LOOK IN MY PROFILE! **

In other news, I looked at the original story on my computer the other day. (And I mean REALLY original. Pre-Twiggie. As opposed to Twig.) The first chapter was strangely different. It started out at Hogwarts, but Emmy was the same. Another strange thing was that it was called Lord Voldemort's Request, and I'm puzzled at no end to figure out why that was the title. If you remember, LittleLily came up with the title, a long while ago. Thanks a bunch, if you're still reading! She and lightningboltgirl are super-cool people that helped me a lot with LAD.

This is a flashback IN a flashback. Kewl.

And thus ends the almost-page long Author's Note by Twiggie. Or Twig. Whatever.

Anyone remember the chapter name?

In day he goes behind the wall,

Cracking under the pressure, no one sees him fall.

The character he lives by is free

Perfect for whom he wants to be.

Illusions that become him over time.

Can you see him?

Maybe once he sleeps, the wall fades away.

Tossing fitfully in his slumber, perfection lies at bay.

Troubles plaguing him arise

Walls that build a'front his eyes,

He climbs over and stands alone.

From Emilie Garrow's, "The Wall"

Chapter Fifteen: What Walls We Build

The knocker on the door, in the shape of a Snorkack, was rapped upon twice. Luna Lovegood was woken out of her dreamy reverie by the sound. It seemed as just then she was realizing that she was upside-down, hanging off of her bed. Her back arched over the side, and her head was inches away from the finished oak flooring. Over her eyes was a copy of the _Quibbler_, which quickly reminded her of why she was upside-down on her bed. The article she had been reading was about Tarinian Posselhoops, flighted creatures, somewhat like pixies, with bright green bodies and beady yellow eyes. They had a certain kind of magic that let them become invisible unless the seeker was upside-down. Posselhoops flew upside-down themselves, and it was a rare treat to be face-to-face with one.

Again, the knocker was banged, more feverishly this time. Three solid bangs in quick succession. The knocker was charmed so that the sound carried all around the house. At times like these, when Luna couldn't be bothered by guests, she felt ready to blast the bronze doorknocker (and the visitor) away. But she just simply couldn't do that; it was much too rude, so she flipped herself completely over the bedframe and onto the woven carpet. Tucking a piece of her dirty-blonde hair behind her ear and hitting her wand in the process, Luna stood up and careened downstairs to open the door.

To the visitor outside, seeing a strange blue eye in the eyehole could possibly be frightening. Luna's bright, wide eye appeared there, and she quickly surveyed her guests before unlatching several bronze locks from the inside. The door peeked open, and Luna saw the same people she had seen before. A fact that wasn't considered all that odd, besides who these people were. A pair of them, mother and son, both skinny and blonde, the son gauntly so. His hair was slicked back with several potions and products that seemed to make it shine even moreso than the ultra-blonde already was. The mother stepped infront of him, her silvery robe contrasting nicely with her hard, grey eyes. She and Luna surveyed eachother, and came to the same conclusion. _Odd. _

Odd that Luna had tucked her wand behind her ear and wore a Butterbeer cork necklace. Odd that the Malfoys had shown up on her doorstep. For that was who these people were, mother and son Malfoy. The father was still in Azkaban. Lucius, he was called. Narcissa looked to be choking on her necklace; an emerald serpent sneaking its way around her neck. She was very pale, but not as much as her son. The smallest Malfoy, Draco, stood at his mother's side stiffly. He too looked to be choking, as his collar was held by a tight clasp. Luna looked upon that as satisfying. He had tried to kill Dumbledore. He deserved every painful infliction piled upon him. Narcissa stepped coolly forward, the long hem of her robes swishing fluidly past her legs.

"Hello," Narcissa greeted, none too kindly. She looked down on Luna as if she were a piece of dragon dung. Their Pure-blood mania was not affected at all in these troubled times. It was all too bad for them, as Luna had blood just as pure as they did. And she wasn't as inbred as them, either.

"Have you got a Skunking Sprite under your nose? It looks as if you've got something rotten there." Luna smiled. She watched as Malfoy gave his mother and "I told you so" look. Luna glazed her eyes over and thought hard. _Why would they be here? _She easily concluded that that passing look was because of her apparent strangeness. That was no enigma to figure out. The more pressing matter was the Death Eater duo that had shown up unannounced on the Lovegood doormat.

Narcissa looked confused at this remark, and waited for Luna to continue.

"If you pardon my apparent strangeness," she ordered, her voice becoming uncharacteristically cold. "I will pardon your apparent arrogance. Please step inside if you'd like." She waited, and then Malfoy brushed past his mother and strode into the house with an air of superiority. Narcissa followed. They looked awkward, immaculately groomed and put together, very stiff and aristocratic. A horrid clash against the laid-back personality of the Lovegood home. While Narcissa's robes were drawn up and fit her shape perfectly, the three rugs that sparsely covered the drawing room's floor were three different colors, and all different shapes. Odds and ends gathered on every shelf (old copies of _The Quibbler, _porcelain elephants, a silver hippogriff statuette, and various things of the sort.) and a clay pot that had ceramic stones adorning it was filled with Floo Powder, and sat atop the mantle. In the slew of things, the Malfoys stood stately and proper and extremely out of place. Malfoy fingered a stack of magazine issues and flipped inside of one. He took a step too far into one of Mr. Lovegood's experiments. With a sizzle, a specimen of a Guritter Slug floated up into the air. He jumped back in surprise. After that, he had nothing to do with touching anything in the Lovegood house.

Luna led them around, giving them the grand tour and talking about all the strange knick-knacks and _Quibbler _editions piled a foot high. The Malfoys quickly tuned her out, her words were meaningless to them. Finally, they came upon the kitchen and sat down in wooden stools. Luna balanced a tray of mugs of Butterbeer on her hip, stepping into her flowing, calf-length skirt. She again babbled on about the threats of Butterbeer; it could be infested with Gorny eggs, and how one Minister had tried to gain control of Hogwarts by dousing the school in Butterbeer and freezing it, creating a slippery mess. The Malfoys thought her to be as bad as or worse than that old fool Dumbledore.

She shoved a platter of Pumpkin Pasties on the table and Malfoy eyed then hungrily. What had they been doing for the past month? It was late July now, the twenty-fifth. On the run, with Lucius in prison, what had they done? Yet they remained with excellent pride and stature. Looking closer, she realized that while Malfoy had always been thin a Hogwarts, he looked a few paces away from almost haggard. His cheekbones were pronounced, and his cheeks bulged as he hungrily bit into the Pumpkin Pasties. At first he had seemed uncertain of if eating them was a good option, especially after the Slug incident, but hunger overtook him and he hastily made a meal of the snacks. Narcissa remained straight-backed and proper, but eventually nibbled on one. Luna watched expectantly, them hem of her being tugged and twisted in between her fingers. She was becoming slightly anxious, which was rather unusual for Luna. Her thin eyebrows knit together as she thought.

Finally, Narcissa spoke. "As you may know, we," she motioned with one thin finger to herself and Malfoy. "Have run into trouble as of late. We have been in hiding for the past month or so, after Draco's...mishap. More recently, we have visited many homes of Purebloods without allegiance to the Dark Lord, looking for a safehouse. Truthfully, besides for those filthy Weasels, you Lovegoods are our last lifeline. Our question is, quite simply, if we could stay here, with you, until that blasted Potter brat conquers the Dark Lord. Until we can be safe. I have spoken to McGonagall and she is willing to have Draco at the school, but no one must know his whereabouts for where he takes residence. As for I, I believe I may be able to help out around here...?"

Luna nodded, her radish earrings bouncing. "I'll have to ask my father, but I don't think you'll have too much of a problem staying here...it's just that we don't have enough room. Some wall and room charms will fix that up though." Both Malfoys nodded agreeingly. "And we'll have to check for Psneymoni Termites, I hear they're really bad this season." Both Malfoys smiled and nodded confusedly. Finally, they had found a place to stay.

Luna hopped up and led them down the hall to her father's study. Mr. Lovegood had next month's edition of _The Quibbler _in his hands. He was editing it, his thin face craning over the type. Grumbling, he tapped his wand to the paper and rearranged a sentence. Luna coughing noticeably, and he looked up. His already wide eyes widened at the sight of the Malfoys. Placing the magazine down, he popped his monocle out and searchingly looked at the Malfoys with his jubilant hazel eyes. He cocked his head to the side and examined them, turning ideas inside and out in his head. Finally, his mind ceased action and he settled down calmly. The effect that these Malfoys had on people was amazing. Even Mr. Lovegood, who was probably more in his own world than in the outside one, could easily recognize them as Death Eaters. Traitors. Murderers. But he had heard strange things...that the son couldn't kill the Headmaster, and that they had changed sides. Changing sides was one thing, but showing up in his house was entirely another.

Narcissa, feeling the need to explain herself, began the same story she had told Luna. And then, looking at the strangeness in Mr. Lovegood that she had seen in Luna, introduced herself. "I am Narcissa Malfoy. This is my son, Draco. He is a year older than your daughter, I believe." Well, Mr. Lovegood was not having a strange boy in his house! He thought idly of their story. Letting them stay would be necessary, not to mention kind. He would not be held responsible for the death of two more innocent lives. He nodded begrudgingly and introduced himself.

"And I am Edwin Lovegood. Perhaps you've heard of the newspaper I edit, i _The Quibbler/i _I could easily find you some wards for the Skunking Sprite under your nose if you'd like. Quite simple. My daughter is Luna, and yes, your son is a year above her at Hogwarts. Slytherin, aye?" He didn't wait for a reply. "I'll have to put some additions onto the house, but you staying here should be just fine. And possibly a Fidelus Charm too, to keep everyone safe and sound here. Have you your things?" Narcissa nodded and summoned her bags. Malfoy did the same, and once everything was together, Luna led Malfoy up to the spare bedroom and her father took Narcissa to the section of the house that was to be modified. Malfoy hadn't spoken a word to anyone the entire time he'd been here. His room was upstairs, down the hall from Luna's.

She pushed open the door and sniffed the dank air. No one had been in the spare bedroom for a long while. There was dust everywhere, which Malfoy easily remedied with a quick _Scourgify! _Luna would make a list of all the times Malfoy spoke. She doubted she'd get past seven. Setting down the trunk she'd been carrying, she looked at him, waiting. He just lied down on the faded blue bedspread. Luna tiptoed out and went into the linen cabinet to get some pillows and blankets for his bed. When she got back, he wasn't there. So she simply set down the sheets and such on his bed and went down the hall to her own room, assumed her upside-down position, and continued to read.

Meanwhile, Malfoy had left his room. Trodding softly down the stairs, he was prepared to snoop around the house. Most of the doors were closed, and he wasn't trusting anything here. His footfall brought him around the house and back to his room, having found several secret passages and halls leading to nowhere. What a boring house. Then he explored his own hall, and found a linen closet, a bathroom, and another bedroom. The door was slightly open, and he saw a scraggly piece of dirty-blonde hair hanging from the bed. This was the Lovegood girl's room.

Disappointed, he went back to his dark room, lit a lamp, and settled onto the bed. Malfoy wondered what it would be like to live like the Lovegoods; Purebloods, but with no allegiance to the Dark Lord. No quarrel and trouble with what they've done to serve him in their lives. But then he remembered the filthy blood-traitor Weasleys, Purebloods, but Muggle-loving, dirt poor ones at that. His happy thoughts of a good life without the Dark Lord in it were shattered, and he decided he'd rather have a Dark Mark burned onto his arm than having to fight a losing battle against the Dark Lord's wrath. Surrounded by the silence he was used to, he drifted off into a fitful slumber. Nothing had changed by coming to this house, his nightmares still plagued him.

Malfoy slept until late into the night, when he awoke with a pain on his arm. The Mark was faded, but red and swollen. It had been ever since he could not defeat his former Headmaster. In some ways, he felt better for it. In others, he was very, very ashamed. He was disowned from the Death Eaters. If his former Master did not find and kill him, his father sure would. He sat up in bed, cold and stiff. The covers Luna had placed there earlier in the day still lay there. He mishappedly pulled them on of the bedspread already there, in an effort to make his bed. He then rose and walked to the door, flexing his thin fingers as he did so. It was time for a midnight snack, he reckoned.

Quickly finding his way to the kitchen, he rooted through the cupboards for those Pumpkin Pasties. He was blissfully unaware of two peeking blue eyes watching him. She herself was eating a Pumpkin Pasty, having gotten into the kitchen five minutes before Malfoy had. The hair on the back of his neck prickled up, and he whipped around to see Luna's wide blue eyes. She held the box of Pumpkin Pasties to the table with her elbow. Malfoy couldn't figure out why she kept watching him. She couldn't trust him, from what he gathered. No one did anymore. He settled down into a chair, the uncomfortable feeling he had before washed away by a more uncomfortable one. Malfoy didn't know what to say to her. He didn't even know her. Her name was Lovegood. Loony Lovegood. Although he was pretty sure her name wasn't actually Loony. Her father had said Luna. Yet she was always watching him.

"You wanted a Pumpkin Pasty." She broke the silence. In his calm thoughts, he hadn't noticed the passing of ten minutes.

He nodded. No more words to add to her list. Luna tossed him one, and he deftly caught it. They sat in an uncomfortable silence, the hard back of the chairs bothering their backs. Malfoy bit into the snack, the emerald arm of his sweater falling back on his forearm. Luna glanced at the clock on the wall. It was a very odd clock, not unlike the Weasley's. Only two hands spun around, but irregular times, or stops, adorned it. Luna's hand was currently on "day-dreaming"; Mr. Lovegood's was on "snoring rather loudly." Written on polished cherry wood were others like "editing" and "eating" that were normal. Next to the clock was a normal cuckoo cluck Mr. Lovegood had found in a Muggle thrift shop. It was two minutes fast, and the bird sometimes kept cuckoo-ing until someone hit the clock.

The bird cuckoo-ed at that moment, breaking the silence in an odd manner. Malfoy jumped up, his wand ready, but Luna laughed at his antics. "It's just a cuckoo clock," she assured. He sat down, his thin face coloring. Luna smiled serenely at him. Almost kindly. He glowered down at the Pumpkin Pasty wrapper, then turned his cold eyes to Luna. Glaring ferociously, he couldn't seem to bother her, not in the least. Now he was really getting angry. She wasn't even looking at him. She stared with a glazed expression at nothing in particular. Suddenly, her head snapped over to him.

"Why didn't you kill him?" she asked feverishly. Malfoy grunted in response. No one had asked him that. It was too blunt of a question for this "troubled boy."

"You know, talking about things makes them better," she remedied. He rolled his eyes, then left for his room. Luna, very much tired, simply fell asleep with her head in her arm on the table.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Three days had passed since the midnight snack, and the only words Luna had added to her list were "yes," and "no." They were currently making additions to the house, or rather, finishing them. Narcissa and Draco both had rooms that jutted out from the eastern side, but were invisible to passerby. Never having been good at "homey" spellwork, Narcissa heard a crash and a bang, then rose quickly from her post at her vanity. In Malfoy's room she found a cracked wall, her own handiwork. Her son was standing there, dumbfounded, when she came through the door. Luna, who had also heard the noise, was there, mumbling something about the Minister having ninjas attack their house. Mr. Lovegood was nowhere in sight, probably still editing an article or another. Narcissa scoffed aloud at Luna's appearance: today was peasant blouse with those hideous Muggle things _jeans_, and on top of that, the jeans were grafitied. Luna pulled out her wand from behind her ear, which was adorned with a pumpkin earring (the other one was a dangling licorice.) She tapped the wall idly, as if she didn't exactly care, and said, "_Repairo." _

Narcissa returned to her powder puff; she'd always enjoyed doing her own make-up, and Luna went on her way to who-knows-where. Malfoy sat, still dumbfounded, at his now-brand-new wall, reminded of his own invisible one. His own mask that fell unseen across his face. It was his only comfort, but it doubled as a burden. Malfoy could easily hide behind it, becoming the Malfoy everyone knew to be real. The one with the snide remarks and the cold disposition who hated the Gryffindors and everyone else besides his own "friends." He shivered internally, thinking of his prisoner father who had made him like that. Malfoy's foul, blood-obsessed parents were the reason for the constant internal battle between the real Malfoy and the one everyone saw. He wanted to please his father dearly, and di so by insulting Muggle-borns and blood traitors alike. They were better than his filthy, inbred family. Living at the Lovegood's for the past few days made him want to come out of his shell even more, seeing that not all Pureblood families are allies to the Dark Lord and are bad wizards. This was not admitted to anyone, let alone Malfoy himself. He didn't even know his own personal thoughts.

Luna, on the other hand, was not in who-knows-where but the very obvious space of her bedroom. She flipped through an old magazine, the one published last year about Harry. He was like a friend to Luna, and now she actually had friends. Ones that thought her odd all the same, but ones she could count on. She trusted them. Most still thought she was "Loony, Loopy, Luna Lovegood," and she knew this. She appeared odd to everyone with her eccentric sayings and strange beliefs. Luna stared down at her orange and purple fingernails, thinking of the small ring on her finger. It was only a gold band, but it had been her mother's. It was funny, she thought, how thoughts circled around eachother and meshed. As she thought of her mother, she thought of being the "Loony" girl she now was. When her mother died, Luna shattered. Her mother had been an immense part of her, and now she was gone, along with the exuberance of the house. Her father fell into his own little hole, but Luna's was etched deeper. She had changed then, for the better, although it was not apparent at first. Luna had always been an extremely happy child, bouncing around and being a fun child. When her mother died, Luna was nine, and she took up some of her mother's ways. She wore strange earrings and became...odd. The transition was not hard for her, she mostly copied what her mother and father had been like. She took up her father's strange beliefs, her mother's strange sayings, and their calm demeanor and became her. She believed that she would have ended up like this anyway, and no one noticed. No one could remember a time when Luna was nine and a different person.

Luna kept herself guarded, her strengths came in her being. She had turned into the person she wanted to be and those were her defenses. She was very strong. Luna looked carefree, and was, she was calm and collected and trusting. Shielded by her weirdness, Luna lived a relaxed life. One that involved _The Quibbler, _which she had, by now, finished. She couldn't see why this particular issue had sold more than the one on Crumple-Horned Snorkacks; Harry wasn't that interesting. He was rather normal. More normal than Luna, for sure. Luna closed the magazine and set it on her bedside table, which was already cluttered with a fuzzy, lime green lamp, a wall clock propped up, Spectrumspecs, and various handkerchiefs (Luna collected them.) Then she rolled off her bed and hit the floor with a muffled thump, turning her eyes to the ceiling. It was adorned with lovely plastic flower decor and stripes she'd painted three years ago, rainbow colored. Propping herself up on her elbows, she stood up and went to her "secret spot" to mull things over.

When she got there, to mother's small experimenting room, she turned to look around. When she was younger, and her mother had just passed away, Luna found solace in this simple room. The only decorations were pictures of Luna and her father, the family together, and several of Mrs. Lovegood's experiments. She sat down in the leather armchair and just stared. At the walls, at the ceiling, at the floor, at her mother's happy face, smiling and waving, in the picture frames. Also at herself, grinning and sticking her teeth through the gap where her front teeth had been. There were no recent pictures; Luna doubted her father even knew anyone had been down here recently. In her mother's little basement lab, Luna had seen her mother work on all sorts of projects with transformation and research for magical animals and plants. She had been a very adventurous person, and a great mentor to Luna. When she saw her mother's face, happy and glowing, Luna wondered what she'd be like if her mother was still alive. But Luna didn't often dwell on what was bad; she looked to the bright side and was sure that, after death, she would see her mother again.

The desk was cluttered, Luna hadn't touched it once since her mother died. There was seven years of dust covering the parchment and quills Mrs. Lovegood had used to record data. Luna didn't want to disturb her mother's things, but was overcome by curiosity. She slid her hand under some papers and began to read them. They were only experiment data Luna already knew about, but she enjoyed reading her mother's looping handwriting. She felt at ease to know that her mother had written this and it was left here. Luna was surprised she'd even found the room again; she'd only started visiting it about a year ago. Last summer, in fact. The pathway was difficult to find at first; her house had some passageways that led to no where, secret passageways and doors that opened in strange places or to a wall. But if you just followed the one path in the upstairs hall from the linen closet (you'd have to move some bedding before sliding into the entrance) you could find your way to the doorway in no time. She and her mother had pretended it was some secret adventure to a strange new land, and that was what it looked like; all of her experiments. It was there little secret. The hair on the back of Luna's neck prickled, and she realized the wand-wielding person in the doorway was also in on it.

**DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUUN! **

**Woot. Yeah! Finally, we have chapter fifteen and if this is a disappointment, AGH to you. It's **_**my **_**story. **

**The excerpt on the top is by me, so don't go about stealing it, dearies. It was either that, from a poem of mine called "The Wall," or this one: **

**Watching you, she lurks in shadow,**

**No one will ever know.**

**For reasons she can't explain**

**She knows your fears, your pain.**

**Silently watching,**

**Deciding, **

**Guessing. **

**You may know her.**

**Seeing you, silently remains,**

**Knowledge only she retains.**

**Can she see into your soul?**

**Hard to tell, but she sees you as a whole.**

**Waiting steadily,**

**Looking,**

**Determining.**

**You might see her.**

**There are pieces, parts**

**That fill our very hearts.**

**Our graces; thoughtful, caring, kind**

**Our demons; hard, untold, maligned. **

**Knowing thoroughly,**

**Assuming,**

**Concluding.**

**She will disappear, that observer.**

**She is done, for you have been judged.**

**Called "Observer." Which would you prefer for the title-heading-thing? **

**Jeez, in that first one I sound...emo. Slightly emo, by any stretch. Did ya'll like it? And I'm sure you liked the cliffhanger at the end, didn't you? 'Tis so much fun to torture you into submission. By the way, this is the longest chapter I've ever written, 4,174 words in the actual chapter, but the Author's Notes make it appear longer. **

**TWIGGIE**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Letters

Author's Note: Bwa. Ha. Ha. Left you with a cliffhanger there, didn't I? Well, you'll have to wait a while before 'tis continued, because I'm going back to present-day! Hahaha! So this chapter is PRESENT DAY! Hence the not-Another Day title.

Chapter 12 is the last chapter in the present time (in which we see Emmy) so go to the twelfth chapter to have a bit of a refresher. The flashback is the last few lines of Chapter Twelve.

Chapter 16: Letters

_"That," Emmy stated, "Was my father."_

Lily breathed in quickly and cringed. Quickly masking her grimace for her friend's sake, she turned her expression to sympathetic.

"It's alright Lily. My father wasn't so nice."

Emmy had her mother's way of bringing an awkward silence. Lily shifted her eyes from Emmy's face, but was saved by Garret, who bounced in on his knees. He crouched by Lily and she pushed him over, sending him toppling to the floor. This sent Owen Finkes down, who had crawled after Garret, and he knocked down Merri Macdonald. She tried to stand up, and hit her head on the Head Table. Rubbing her now throbbing head, Merri scowled at Owen. He shrugged bashfully, then glared at Garret.

Garret only smiled, and then said, "Man, those were some arse-kicking duels!"

Emmy rolled her eyes, as did her friends. She crawled out from under the table to see the Great Hall at its worst. Drapes and banners hung in tatters, tables were scorched, students frantically ran, trying to find friends and family. Her friends trickled past her to find others, their family members, and see if they were alright. Emmy waited for a professor to tell her it was alright to go back to her House, and ended up waited for the better part of an hour, alone. Too much time led to her thinking, and she zoned out, her thoughts filled by the unpleasant image of her father.

He was horrid. That was her rightful assumption on his disposition. He looks like me. That was her rightful assumption on his appearance. He was hiding something. That was, as well, as rightful assumption on his shifty manner. It seemed that she was the only one who noticed this, his faltering glare on her and his refusal to look at his son. Thoughts raced through Emmy's mind as she continued to think. What had the Pug done to deserve not even one look from his father?

It was Owen Finkes that snapped Emmy out of her thoughts, and she was thankful. The eleven-year old's shoulders held a large burden, and she would like to forget about it. But Emmy was a thinker. She wanted to know more, more about her father, and her mother. Why, on heaven and earth, had they ended up married? Owen Finkes shook her arm. She blinked three times and then looked up, realizing that it must be nearing one o' clock in the morning, and she suddenly felt very, very tired.

Owen Finkes was speaking. "The headmistress said we could all go back up now."

They made there way up the marble staircase and in front of the Fat Lady. Her large body had not changed over the years, and neither had her friends. Violet sat with her, gossiping about what had happened earlier. A prefect screamed the password ("Flibbertigibbet!") at them, and the Fat Lady cast him a reproachful glance before reluctantly swing the door open. The prefect scampered in, and Emmy and Owen Finkes followed, Owen tripping inside the common room. Emmy made her way up the girl's dormitory stairs, and only Owen Finkes noticed the reproachful glares she was earning from her fellow Gryffindors.

Emmy made her way silently to her four-poster bed, like a ghost. Two other girls in her year tittered about being up so late. She had no time for them, and fell, like a rock, onto her bed. She dreamed fretfully and rapidly, with dreams stretching from Lily being made into pumpkin pie to her father chasing her, wand aloft, and a flash of green light that made her shiver and quake, and then go black. She awoke many times throughout the night, and tossed and turned when she could get a little sleep. Finally, after three hours had passed and there was no hope any longer of sleeping, she made her way down to the common room.

Sitting herself on one of the overstuffed armchairs by the fire, she curled up and watched the flames dance. It was nice, this quiet, and very calming. Emmy yawned, tired. She was becoming ready to go to sleep, finally. Her eyes closed, and, in front of the fire, she found a solace in the silence.

Something rustled.

It was paper, and Emmy was suddenly very much awake. It rustled again, and she didn't hear anything else. Not the soft hoot of an owl, or the footsteps of a late-night student finishing their homework. It was a sinister rustle, if a rustle could be considered sinister. Emmy's wide eyes jerked open, pupils large in fear. Both her breath and her heartbeat quickened, and she tried her best to be quiet. It came slowly, she didn't hear another sound, and, while still wary, Emmy became drowsy once more.

He waited in the shadows, watching her. He knew when she was asleep. And he still waited, for quite a few more moments, until he was sure she was in a deep slumber. He stalked over to her, robes swishing behind him, and he watched her shiver a bit. With a pang of regret, he bent over her, and watched her, imagining the stare he had received before. Her wide, blue-grey eyes, he imagined they were usually merry and bright, with interest and optimism.

For the first time in many years, he placed his hand on her face. She breathed easier, and she didn't shiver from a dream any longer. This was how it was supposed to be, he realized. He was supposed to stop her fears, to tell her it would be alright. But he wouldn't plague himself with guilt, not now. He had other things to do. He removed his hand from her face, brushed her hair out of her eyes awkwardly, and stepped away. He moved the paper he had been writing before to the table beside her, setting it down gently. She was beginning to shiver again, and he knew she would awaken soon. But he had to see her, her expressions when reading his letter, her eyes not hard or wide in fear.

When her eyes flashed open again, he was gone, but not far. He watched from the corner he had hidden in before, as she awoke from a cold sweat and looked around fearfully. He quieted his breathing, so it was nearly silent, and she would mistake it for the crackling of the dwindling fire. Emmy silently arose, and spotted the letter on the table. The parchment was sealed, with wax, to make her think it had been delivered by owl. That was his plan. To make her think he had not come.

Emmy slit the letter open with her fingernail, and let the letter fall out. She caught it deftly as it fell, and unfolded it slowly. It was addressed to her, Emmaline Malfoy, the Seat by the Fire, Gryffindor Common Room. That was slightly unnerving in itself. How anyone could know where exactly she was at four o' clock in the morning? She sat down, ready for terrible news, but the letter was blank. A trick! It was probably Garret, the idiot, trying to scare her. Emmy inhaled sharply. A message was unfurling on the paper, in shimmering silver ink. It was faint, and in the diminishing firelight, Emmy could hardly read it. But she made it out. "To whom it may concern," she read aloud.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_First of all, happy birthday. It may be a bit early, but I won't see you again. If you do not know your birthday, it is the fifth of November, and you will be twelve. I say that only to clear things up for you, as I know you do not know much about yourself. Nor do you know much about me, but that is my doing._

_You know, of course, that these are troubled times, and have been for many, many years. I am aiding the trouble, but to seek revenge, not to harm. You may have seen me. There are shadows that surround you, I know, that no one understands. Why? Why are you here? Who are you? This is for your own sake: some questions are better unanswered, but there are some you need to know. Ones that I cannot tell you, I will not, and it brings me great pain to not be able to. I must confess, I did not know you were alive and well until very recently. I must also confess that this is strange, even to me, one who has lived a life of strangeness. _

_You, if the letter has reached the correct person (as I assume it did, it only opens for you), are Emmaline Malfoy. You know this already, of course, but am I right to assume you are only learning this now? Of course I am. Not only are you just learning who you are, but about your past. You were placed in an orphanage many years ago, by a handsome blonde man in very strange robes. The owner was displeased to find this, and she looked upon you in shame ever since. There is a time, which you remember and I do not know of, when you were alone in the orphanage, and there was no one there for you. That time when you were in the orphanage, for many years, is one you would most likely adore to forget. The other children probably thought you strange, different. But you were. You were very different. And sometimes great things, great people, lord-like people, some out of being thought strange. I do not wish you to be like him, but it shows that you, too, can be powerful._

_Until very recently, you did not know that you belonged to a different world, my world. Our world, all of us, even those that I have frowned upon, is yours. That of magic. And that is what you have. You are not strange, no, but a witch, as you have already heard. And I hope that you are quite a good one. Alas, I know more about your life in the recent months than did I of your earlier years. For that, I am sorry. But you were Sorted, into Gryffindor, and realized that you were a Malfoy. Yes, some fear the name. I fear it sometimes. It is a heavy burden for you to carry, that of your father's family. Do you know your mother? She was a Lovegood herself, as I assume your Defense Against the Dark Arts or Transfiguration professor has told you. Luna was her name. Unlike of you, I know nearly nothing about her any longer. _

_You have made friends, I assume, for you are no longer considered strange in the castle. Everyone is the same there, or nearly. Have you met any of the Slytherins? A menacing bunch they are there. I do know the answer to one of your questions, but I doubt I can tell you. It has arisen about a little Slytherin, I am sure. I believe I will tell you, in due time, or right at the moment. Have you been accused, by any chance, of being another Malfoy's twin? I assume you have already, and with your most likely hatred for the boy, or all the Slytherins, stubbornly set the accuser straight? Well, you were wrong, all wrong. Both of you were wrong. Do you know what that means? I cannot go about explaining everything in a letter, my time is short, but I will tell you that both of you were wrong._

_There are many questions that cannot be answered in a letter, about your mother, your father, and many other things. As you are probably very confused, I suggest you mull it over. You are a thinker, Emmaline, of that I am sure. I know you better than anyone, unless one other person is alive. You can figure much of this out all on your lonesome. Other things will need to be cleared up, and many people here can do that. Professor Potter will offer his own prejudiced opinion on the world, Professor Granger will give you a long, logical speech on something, jumping excitedly when she comes to a new conclusion, and Professor Longbottom will hardly do anything but stutter. _

_You have your own opinions, of course, on Mr. Malfoy and your family, but I will try to change them by explanation. It is not a simple process, or a simple story, that of your family. Your mother and father—how could that be? In love, ha! You must be crazy! Loony Luna Lovegood and the evil, anti-Potter Malfoy? What are you saying? It worked, and I don't know if you'll ever know the entire story. But one person still living in this world knows the answers, and that is me. Sadly, as you've found out, I do not readily give information out. But it will come, some has come already, the correspondence you sent, wanting the answer, has been returned to you. I know it was you who sent it, as I haven't received a letter from him in many months. He writes, and then shoves them in his bag and forgets. He doesn't care, sorrily enough. He has been raised wrong, by the wrong person, just because she was confused and drew a blank memory that needed to be filled. His thoughts, like yours, are easily shaped by others. What would you have thought about the Slytherins if someone had not told you? What would he have thought of the Gryffindors if someone had not told him? The world is on two sides, you see, and there is going to be something big. Still, our race remains on two different sides of the fence. And this time, we don't have a precious Boy-Who-Lived to save us. We don't have a Dark wizard foolish enough to curse himself by seeking the one to kill. We have a group of do-gooders that assume that everything is all right because the Second War is over. We have a group of Dark wizards and witches that will strategize, fight to the death, and conquer. _

_Then, there are people like you, that send anonymous letters trying to get a response, half-breeds from both sides of the fence that know both evil and good. They are born with both. There are people that change, and find loss on both sides. Those who have seen the Darkness and the Light are the lucky ones. Sometimes. Other times they carry the heaviest burden, of knowing someone will be hurt either way. Ask your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He has lived in fear. Or your Transfiguration Professor. She knows the burden and holds knowledge that only one who has read the entire library knows. Do not fret. It is not on your hands. But be wary. People are not always as they seem, they can change in a heartbeat. _

_If you ever need advice, see the Headmaster. There is a headmaster still, you know. His portrait is hanging in the headmistress's office. Dumbledore was his name. He offered me protection once, but I was too late. He was too late. Now I am giving it to you. I found my solace. You will find yours in the knowledge you will gain. Unlike myself, you grew up knowing not even who you were. I grew up knowing exactly what I would do, and how I would do it. But I decided against it, and here you are. There is no protection in optimism. There isn't a blanket to shield you in oblivion. They hurt, and you never see what is coming. This is quite a bit at one point for you, I know. You are only eleven. Ask your professor, as much as I despise giving you this advice. He knows better than you what it feels like to be depended upon. It is not oblivion that saves you, Emmy, it is love._

_To Whom It May Concern, I hope I've concerned you. /i _

As Emmy's head spun, Draco Malfoy swiftly disappeared.

A/N: That was fun.

If you didn't understand, PM me, and I'll explain to the best of my abilities.

EMILIE


End file.
